The Collector Rebuilds
by Upir
Summary: Taneleer Tivan needs a new slave to clean up the mess caused by his last one and possibly attract new sellers to rebuild his collection. Hanni finds his on-and-off compassion and unpredictable cruelty unsettling, but she can't seem to help but feel affection for her distraught master. T for some sensuality and mild violence. Follows movie more than comics. Complete!
1. The Slave Market

Hanni examined herself in the mirror provided very, very carefully. While not as exotic as a Krylorian or as elegant as an Asgardian, her somewhat attractive form and – more importantly – domestic training made her somewhat valuable. She had honey colored skin and deep eyes the color of rich soil. Her black hair was braided neatly and bound in a blue silk tie behind her head, which was clipped with a small mock-gold pin. She ran her short nails up her toned arms, examining herself for any flaws yet again.

"Hanni, time to go," said a soft voice outside the door.

Her heart raced quickly as she dressed herself in a thin-strapped, plain blue gown that accentuated her hips and bosom, hoping it would be enough to entice a buyer to pay a good price for her. While she would not see any of that money, it was a matter of pride among the slaves – one of the few things worth bragging rights. It was unbearably shameful to be bought for less than five thousand units, and almost unheard of to be purchased for more than fifty thousand – for the most part. Rare species, exceedingly beautiful slaves or those trained in a _different_ sort of pleasure for their master were always top-dollar, though they were usually sold on markets even further "underground" than she. Her makeup was done lightly, but cleverly – light blue eyeshadow to complement the blue dress, black cat-eye liner to accentuate her eyes, and dark lipstick to make her lips poutier and features more prominent. Though not ugly, there were other slaves with more pleasing faces than she, and she hoped the cosmetics would inspire a better price. Hanni attached the final piece of her outfit – another item made of mock-gold, this time a netted necklace with a small, fake sapphire that dangled just above the cleft between her breasts. She breathed out a nervous sigh and tried her best to hold herself with pride as she walked in small steps out the door.

She was greeted by her fiery red-skinned master, Adevia, who took a calculating look at her for a moment before escorting her down a hallway to join the other slaves waiting to be purchased. Hanni assumed her appraisal went well, as Adevia said nothing critical of her until they reached the slave pens and her master raised a hand to stop her.

"Hanni," she said, her soft voice still commanding, "I have taught you, as well as the other slaves, what I can. You may be inexperienced, but your training should serve you. Just keep your tongue still and your eyes cast down – you should fetch a good price."

The slave nodded in quiet acquiescence, as always keeping her mouth shut. That was her first and most important lesson, drilled into her since she had been abducted almost two years ago – silence is the greatest skill of a slave. Your master talks, you do not. Look down, nod, work well, do what they say, and pray you are not sold to a beater – or _worse._ An announcement rang out through the filthy building and Adevia put her red hand upon her slave's shoulder.

"I should have liked to have kept you longer," she admitted, "You were taken as an adult and had a lifetime of bad habits to break." Hanni looked up in concern, but said nothing. Adevia smiled. "But your problems will be your own," she said. "Now go make me richer."

Adevia shoved her into a barred cage roughly, locking the door behind her and gliding elegantly to the corroded metal doors to the hall. She opened them and a very, very large group of men and women of dozens of different species poured in to examine the goods her master was offering. Hanni was not the most expensive slave there, nor the most desirable – that honor belonged to a feisty blonde Asgardian woman that was bound and gagged for the buyers' protection. She would likely be sold to a beater, Hanni thought sadly, but she _would_ fetch an impressive price. It was rare for Asgardians to be captured and they were nearly impossible to break, only the most vile of creatures tended to take them, and usually for exorbitant sums. Most of them didn't survive past their first year.

Hanni kept looking around the large arena calmly, trying to hold herself nobly, but not arrogantly, avoiding eye contact and, of course, keeping her mouth shut. A Krylorian male examined her carefully, but passed over with disinterest to bring his attention to a yellow-skinned male slave to her left. This parade went on for several long minutes before half of the slaves were already purchased and escorted out. After another agonizing half hour, Hanni was one of the last dozen left. She felt an odd burn of shame in her chest, mingled with fear and disappointment. _What would her master say?_ The last of the buyers were leaving already, only a few stragglers left discussing politics or pleasure. Hanni folded her arms across herself defensively, watching the floor in front of her cage, lost in thought. Suddenly, a pair of impossibly shiny black shoes stopped in front of her cell and she heard a soft breath. She knew better than to look up, but raised her chin slightly so that whoever was in front of her could see her more plainly. The shining shoes walked around her, their owner still oddly quiet, though she could hear the person breathing. They stopped in front of her once more.

"Look up," a male's accented voice said.

Hanni complied and briefly saw an impeccably dressed man in front of her, but she focused her eyes elsewhere so as not to insult him. She heard him sigh.

"Look at _me_," he huffed.

Alarmed, but ever obedient, Hanni did as she was told and looked him in the face. The first thing she noticed was that he was injured – he had a white strip of gauze wrapped around his forehead just under his hairline and the skin around his right eye was yellow and green, the color of fading bruises. He was an average height for a man, though the front of his tall white-blonde hair added another few inches. The rest of his hair was swept back into a neatly trimmed style that hid his pointed ears slightly. He had dark, bored eyes that showed hints of green in the bright lighting above them, accentuated by his naturally thick eyelashes and the not-so-natural black eyeliner that was applied in a style similar to her own. A dark stripe came down from his somewhat pouty lower lip to a point halfway down his chin. His clothes were rich and elegant, a luxurious spotted fur cloak attached to his broad shoulders with black leather pads and a fat gold chain upon which dangled a large cut ruby. He raised a thick eyebrow the same color as his hair, tilting his head sideways to examine her top to bottom. She blushed slightly, but kept her gaze upon him. Despite all his finery and the noble way he held himself, he looked... _tired._ He gave the slightest, barest hint of a grunt and looked back into her face.

"What are your skills?" he asked, raising his eyebrows and fishing into his silk vest for something. Hanni thought with hope that he was reaching for a wallet, but instead he brought out a slender white cigarette and put it to his lips. He lit it as he watched her expectantly, blinking at her as he blew out a puff of smoke in her direction. It smelled like cherries. "I asked you a question," he muttered impatiently. Hanni's voice was almost inaudible from disuse and the roaring of the fans in the roof of the dilapidated metal building.

"I've been trained in housekeeping and..." she began, but the man merely waved a white-gloved hand in her direction dismissively.

"That's enough," he said, turning away with a flourish and heading away from her.

Hanni looked back towards the floor in disappointment, waiting quietly for the event to end. If she was not sold within the end of two years since Adevia had bought her, she would be put up for sale at a much different auction, one she didn't care to think about. Pleasure slaves almost always ended up having rotten, often short lives. It had already been close to 22 months. She heard the soft steps of her master approach her cage.

"This one?" she heard Adevia ask.

"Yes," replied the man. Hanni looked up in surprise to see Adevia unlocking her cage, the elegant man behind her putting his wallet away. She stepped out silkily and crossed her hands across her stomach, lowering her head and standing still.

"Good doing business," the man said to her master – _former_ master. He clapped his gloved hands together softly at his new acquisition. "Come," he commanded. Hanni complied, trembling with a mix of relief, anticipation, and fear.


	2. The Collector brings his purchase home

"My name is Taneleer Tivan, though you will refer to me as master," he said. "Some call me the Collector – others call me by names that are far less kind. They don't usually do so again."

Hanni nodded, still keeping her face down. She had been kept in a separate, locked room during the flight to her new home, alone with her thoughts until they had arrived. She followed her new master through stinking, muddy lanes and crowds of desperate people with worn faces and clothing. Knowhere was an entire city built around an industry inside of a long-dead celestial being's head – the people here were not soft or tender, and Tivan stood out somewhat in his pampering clothing and stately demeanor. His armed guards flanked them on all sides, but Hanni still did not feel safe. Children held out their hands and begged for food or units, but her master walked by as though he did not see them. After a short walk from his private hangar, Tivan held a gloved hand up to gesture to a large glass-domed building that had been heavily damaged. Hanni took it in for a moment, but her master cleared his throat impatiently and pointed at the door. With quick understanding, she walked forward and held the doors open for him, his guards lining up outside for protection. Hanni followed her master inside and tried to take in exactly what she was seeing.

First off, it was an absolute disaster. There were broken shards of glass, destroyed items, piles of ashes, rubble and metal everywhere. Secondly, what _did_ remain was bizarre and a little frightening. Cage upon cage upon cage of various plants, animals, and artifacts lined every wall and even hung from the ceiling. Most of the containers Tivan had had were shattered or mangled, so Hanni imagined that this would be a much more impressive museum were it at even half capacity. There were seemingly endless floors of displays, and some of them she noticed with horror held actual living people. Her heart pounded painfully in her chest as she took everything in.

"It was impressive," he said softly, his voice echoing despite the rubble and debris.

_It's still impressive_ she thought, craning her head around to take everything in. Tivan suddenly stepped in front of her, barring her path. She jumped in surprise, but immediately lowered her gaze to look at her feet. She felt one of his gloved fingers underneath her chin as he forcefully lifted her face up to meet his own.

"Do not look away from me," he said. "I find it disrespectful if one refuses to meet my eyes."

Hanni nodded, being careful to look him in the face despite her two years of "education" telling her to do exactly the opposite. He released her chin, turned around and raised his hands to gesture to the grand mess around them.

"I bought you so that you would be responsible for getting my collection back in order," he said simply. "Do not disappoint me, or you may find yourself housed in the very display you were meant to be cleaning."

Hanni nodded silently again, though Tivan had his back to her. He whirled around, annoyed by her lack of response. "Do you understand me?" he said in a low, dangerous tone. "I paid a substantial amount of units for you – I don't like regretting expensive purchases."

Despite the threat, Hanni felt immense curiosity at just how much money her master had shelled out for her. It couldn't have been much more than ten or fifteen thousand; she was inexperienced and of a fairly common species.

"You do speak the basic tongue, yes?" he snapped with annoyance.

Hanni nodded quickly, but reconsidered her silence and responded with a soft "yes."

"Good," he said in a clipped tone. "I expect you to respond to me in an intelligent manner, not just bob your head like a brainless bird."

"Yes," she said.

"What?" he seethed slightly.

"Yes, _master_," she corrected herself.

_I'm already failing miserably,_ she moaned inside. _I'm just so nervous._

Tivan continued walking around the museum, his highly polished boots clicking on the metal grating floor, showing Hanni around so that she would know where she would be cleaning. He opened the door to a small, dark room with a worn mattress on the floor and several faded blankets. There was a tiny closet as well, though it was not stocked with anything at the moment.

"These are your quarters," he said in a bored voice. "You sleep here, you dress here, you clean here, too. There is an area to bathe and relieve yourself up these stairs," he gestured to a small staircase to the right of the door, "I expect you to be clean every morning. You are _my_ slave; your appearance is a reflection on me. Filth and impropriety will not be tolerated."

Though his tone was low, Hanni knew he meant business. Often, the most dangerous of people never _needed_ to use a loud voice or harsh words. Their warnings would suffice, and if not, their actions certainly would. Hanni would not be foolish enough to try to displease him.

"It's already late," he said, turning away with a flourish to walk away down the main staircase. "Take the night to get yourself adjusted and rest, you will begin your work tomorrow."

With that, he left Hanni alone to make her bed, lie down, and ponder her new life before drifting off into dreamless sleep.


	3. Be more careful

She awoke in the darkness, trying to let her eyes adjust. A tiny clock with red numbers alerted her to the fact that it was shortly before 5 a.m. in general universal time. Not that it particularly mattered – there were no exact days or nights here, as it was not a planet. She had a feeling it would be disorienting at first, but counted on adjusting to it eventually. She crawled slowly over to where she knew the door to be, then pressed the button to open it. The bluish light that constantly illuminated the museum was dimmed for the evening; she stood up and rubbed her eyes with a grimace, making her way to the washroom and drawing a bath. She relaxed in the small tub, grateful that her master had plumbing installed; not all outposts such as this had good amenities, but she supposed that he would have insisted. Judging by his home, occupation, clothes and demeanor, he must have been accustomed to living a better life than most in the galaxy. She smiled to herself, contemplating her luck. From what she had heard, most slaves never received such lavishness. Where one above her station might see only a small room with an old mattress and dusty sheets, she saw where she would not have to sleep on a hard floor with a crowd of other slaves, blanket-less, huddling together like beasts for warmth. One might see a small washroom with a tiny tub, but she saw that at least she had a spot to bathe and relieve herself in private. There was even soap, shampoo, and towels with which to dry herself. Hanni grinned broadly and wrapped her arms about herself in the soapy water. One might look back to their past and miss their old home, where such luxuries weren't luxuries at all but a basic standard of living... One might... _but not me,_ she thought, the smile fading from her face slightly. _Those days are gone. I am lucky. I am lucky,_ she told herself. Pretty soon she truly believed it.

After a few minutes, satisfied that she had cleansed her old life from her body, she dried herself with the provided towel, but paused when she examined her dress.

_These are my only clothes,_ she thought, wondering if she would be forced to wear it every day. She dressed with trepidation, letting her black hair fall around her shoulders in her natural lazy curls and wondering if she should put on makeup. She found none however, shrugged, and left the room to explore a little. Soon enough she found the kitchen and remembered with no shock that she hadn't been fed the night before – Tivan had not given her permission. Her stomach rumbled angrily at the thought of food, but she decided against it – there was no way she was going to risk displeasing her new master. Deciding to try to get on his good side, Hanni walked to the main chamber and began sweeping broken bits of glass and rubble into a nearby door-covered chute set into the floor that she had been told led to an incinerator far below. The hole seemed wide enough to fit some of the larger debris into it, so she began lugging what she could over to the disposal, but she carelessly picked up a metal bit of frame with glass still embedded in it; it sliced her palm open and she cried out in pain, dropping the twisted beam.

"You should be more careful," her master said softly behind her.

She turned to him, holding back tears, trying to nod but grimacing instead. He clucked his tongue and motioned for her to follow him. He led her to a small, locked closet that was full of hundreds of various bottles, boxes, and tubes, which themselves contained hundreds more different powders, potions, pills and herbs. Most were dusty and served only as a part of his collection, though the bottle of yellow liquid he pulled from within had fingerprints all over it and had only a small amount of tonic left. He unstopped the vial and held his hand out for hers. She presented her gushing palm to him and he poured the foul-smelling, viscous yellow liquid over her wound. Hanni hissed and yanked her hand back as it burned, her master tossing a small white roll of gauze in her direction haphazardly. She wrapped her wound silently, embarrassed, but the cut was healing at an incredible rate already. Catching a glimpse of the bandage still wrapped around his head, she wondered why he didn't use the same medicine on himself. He caught her look and assumed what she was thinking, indulging her curiosity.

"It only goes so far," he said, pointing to his head. "I've used enough for the wound to close, but it will be a small amount of time before it truly heals."

"M-may I..." she started, unsure of saying anything. He nodded for her to continue, a bored expression on his face as he put the vial of yellow stuff and the gauze back into their proper places. "May I ask what happened?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"There was an... incident... with my last servant. Very large explosion. Incidentally, if you find any... _matter_... do not be alarmed. Just dispose of it."

Hanni wasn't sure if he was just joking or trying to frighten her at first, but one look at his face told her all she needed to know. _So that's why he needed a new slave._ She shuddered slightly, but tried to hide it as pain from her hand as she flexed it beneath the bandage. Her stomach suddenly gave a loud rumble again, and she noticed Tivan smirked a little.

"You're allowed to eat," he muttered condescendingly.

Hanni felt a little ashamed again, but took off towards the kitchen to get something for herself while her hand mended. _I wonder if I should cook for him...?_ She had been a somewhat good cook back home before she was abducted and sold into slave labor – maybe it would be a nice gesture, as thanks for repairing her hand. She was full of doubt, however, over how he might react to her doing something without his permission, even if her intentions were good. She bit her lip and walked back out to the main room, suddenly noticing him bent over a small object on the floor. Unsure, Hanni watched him in silence for a moment. He picked up the item – even from this far she could tell it was a photo frame – dusted it off, and placed it on a heavily damaged desk to the side. He turned around and Hanni was utterly surprised to see sadness on his face – surely his collection couldn't mean _that_ much to him – but then she supposed that it must, and did her best to approach him as though she had not been watching.

"Master," she asked slowly, "Would you care for breakfast?"

He looked up at her solemnly.

"I was not aware you could cook," he said passively. _You didn't allow me to tell you I did,_ she thought.

"I was not... _bad_ at it..." she said haltingly. She was hoping for a better reaction.

After a moment's hesitation, he waved his hand dismissively.

"Fine, but do not take too long. Also, make me tea. _Strong_ tea. With honey."

She nodded and swept back to the kitchen, trying to find her way around, getting nervous about taking so long. Most everything was dark metal, every wall lined with some form of cabinet or cupboard, and a set of bar counters dominated the center of the room, tall chairs set next to them for eating meals. They looked dusty and unused. Soon enough she found tea and honey and started that first, then a bag of grains she made into hot porridge. _At least it's quick,_ she thought. She added some of the honey to the mix, then found somewhat overripe berries that she tossed in, as well as a few sweet and mild spices. _Not bad for not cooking for two years,_ she thought smugly. The smell attracted Tivan to the kitchen, and he sat down on one of the chairs at the bar counter, drumming his fingers expectantly with one hand and holding a book open in the other. Hanni sat the tea down in front of him, but he barely registered.

_Must be a good book,_ she thought, but knew better – slaves were for working, not conversing with. She served the hot grains to her master first, then herself, but hesitated.

He did not even look up when he said, "Sit where you like."

She took the chair on the far side from him, not wanting to get too close or interrupt his reading. She waited for a moment, trying to respectfully allow him to eat first, but he merely kept reading. She bit her lip slightly in hunger, but something suddenly occurred to her – _he thinks I might poison him._ She was irritated at first, but realized he was just being cautious. _After all,_ she thought, _I'm still new and 'unpredictable.' I haven't had a tracker installed yet and now would be the most likely time I'd try to escape..._ Hanni took a bite of her porridge and sure enough, Tivan dug into his directly after. He took small, delicate bites, never looking up from his book or giving any kind of sign the meal was enjoyable.

_Well,_ she thought, _At least he's eating it._

Hanni ate her breakfast in silence, then waited for her master to finish his. It was only half-eaten when he waved the rest away. She felt somewhat slighted, but had the feeling that if her cooking was that terrible, he would have said so. She cleaned the dishes, but by the time she was done, Tivan was gone. Hanni merely returned to the main chamber and resumed her earlier work, this time being more cautious about what she touched.


	4. Unwelcome visitors

"This will hurt," said the gruff man behind her. Hanni felt the cold press of metal against the back of her neck, then a sharp, scalding pain as the tracker chip was embedded beneath her skin. She tried her best not to cry out, but it burned like fire and she let a few tears drop. The man squirted some kind of numbing liquid against where the chip was, then wiped it dry and turned towards her master.

"Good to go," he said grouchily, wiping his hands against the yellowed smock of his uniform. It strained against his bulging belly and she was not surprised to see there were dried blood stains on it. Tivan handed over a small amount of units, which Hanni took as her cue to get up and follow him once more back to the museum. They did not talk on the way, but once they entered his collection he pointed to a pile of rubble still left on the main floor and ordered her to quickly dispose of what she could. She fell to it immediately without a word and Tivan left her in silence for almost an hour. She had been his slave for nearly a week; during that time they hardly spoke and the main floor of the collection had been cleared almost completely, save for a few mangled cages Hanni could not lift or were too large for the disposal chute. Apparently there was a crew coming at some point during the day to clear it – Hanni hoped it would be soon, as her master had let her know he was expecting clients today, the first he had had since his home had been nearly destroyed. She knew impressions meant a lot, and if his collection looked like a disaster, she was very likely to be blamed. She heard his clicking footsteps behind her on the metal and turned to face him.

"Make tea for six," he ordered. "My visitors will be here soon."  
>"Yes, master," she said, running immediately to the kitchen.<p>

Hanni had done her job as thoroughly as possible – the kitchen was no longer dusty with disuse, though Tivan rarely ever ate there, if at all. She was aware he was a very ancient being, his Knowhere base alone being hundreds of years old, so she assumed he likely just didn't need to eat much. He never seemed to lose much weight, anyway; his stomach had a somewhat slight paunch to it that nonetheless flattered his broad shoulders and regal frame. She put water on to boil and pulled six nice cups out of the cupboard, then set up a small platter of cheese and fruit and brought it out to the main hall. Setting it on a deeply scarred table, she noticed the picture frame her master had picked up from the floor last week was there. Hanni squinted to try to see the photograph through the dusty, shattered glass. It looked like several people, but she could not make out their faces. Shrugging, she returned to the kitchen.

After a few minutes a group of five elegant-looking travelers entered the building, escorted by guards and followed closely by a sad Krylorian girl Hanni assumed must have been a slave. She looked thin. The guards left as Hanni stepped from the kitchen to greet them, bowing deeply and introducing her master, who had appeared at the head of the short staircase in the back of the hall. He stepped forward and greeted the four men and one woman with a smile and flattery, offering tea as they sat down to discuss business. He suddenly turned to Hanni and snapped his fingers, pointing to the kitchen.

"Leave us," he ordered.

She nodded, bowing slightly and turning away, but the guests ordered their Krylorian slave to follow her. They both complied and, once in the kitchen, started small talk.

"I guess they think we don't need to know their business," the other slave said. "My name's Danissa, by the way."  
>"Hanni," she said softly.<p>

"Master orders you to keep silent?" she said with a knowing look, looking for a glass to get herself water.

"Cupboard to the left," Hanni said, pointing her to where the glasses were kept. "And no, not really – neither of us are really talkers."

Danissa shrugged and got herself a drink, gulping it down sloppily as the water dribbled down her chin and chest.

"My masters don't like me to talk much either," she said, wiping her mouth.

"You have more than one master?" It wasn't unheard of, but generally slaves weren't shared unless he or she were serving an entire family household – it caused too much confusion. The group currently meeting with Tivan did not seem like family.

"Yes, but..." she suddenly fell off, cupping her water tightly and looking down into the glass with a dazed expression, muttering "I'm mostly not used for household duty." She blushed and knitted her brow.

Hanni felt a little sick to her stomach but said nothing. Her opinion didn't matter anyway – slaves were their master's business, not hers. Danissa looked back up, brightening in spite of the grim moment.

"How long have you been here?"  
>"About a week."<br>"Does he treat you well?"  
>"Well enough."<br>"Are you beaten?"

Hanni was beginning to become annoyed with the questions very quickly. Why did she want to know? She guessed the girl was just starving for companionship that didn't require her subservience. She sighed a little.

"He does not beat me, no."

"Oh, that's good. I guess he wouldn't want to damage something so expensive, anyway. He doesn't seem the type."

Hanni shrugged quietly, withdrawing a little. She didn't feel comfortable discussing her master.

"So what does he do all day?"

She shrugged again.

"Has he loved you?"

Hanni felt color rising to her cheeks and real anger now.

"I don't want to talk about this," she said, crossing her arms over her stomach.

"Did you have a tracker installed yet?"  
>"Yeah, but why...?"<p>

Hanni suddenly felt very, very uncomfortable. That was when she noticed Danissa had gotten incredibly close.

"In your neck? Or your arm?"

"I don't know," she lied, but Danissa suddenly made a quick movement and Hanni blacked out.


	5. The price of Hanni

Hanni awoke with the sensation of being dragged, her head aching and swimming. She was completely enclosed in what felt like a thickly woven bag, her hands and feet bound and her mouth gagged. She tried to struggle but to no avail – there would be no squirming out of this one, and whatever Danissa had injected her with made her muscles weak and numb.

"Careful, she's waking up," she heard Danissa warn, though her voice was somewhat different – sharper, more confident, less innocent and more... _harsh._

"She give ya much trouble?" asked a growling, unfamiliar voice.

"No, but I have to be back quick to alert everyone that she 'escaped.'" She tittered. "Make sure you get that tracker out now, it needs to be gone by the time I tell Tivan his slave ran off."

The gruff man chuckled heavily, but Hanni heard him shifting something around.

"Don't forget this," he said.

"Ah, the knife! Thanks Rrngaar, might've taken me too long to try to find one in his place."

"You're not gonna do it here, are ya?" he asked incredulously.

"Don't be stupid," she snapped. "If I'm gonna make this believable it has to be a fresh wound."  
>"You gonna cut yer face?"<br>"Of course not," she said angrily. "Just my arm, but close enough to my wrist that it looks believable that she tried to attack me."

Hanni heard another soft noise, followed by fading footsteps. Rrngaar spit on the ground and hoisted Hanni up over his shoulder, but paused. He lowered her back down to the ground slowly, but suddenly a small _ping_ rang out and she could hear his massive body hitting the earth. Her eyes got wide and she tried to struggle once more, but she could hear several people surrounding her, though they made no movement to free Hanni from the bag or her bindings.

_What am I going to do?_ she thought in panic. It was obvious the Krylorian was trying to kidnap her, likely to sell, but _why ?_

After a few minutes, she heard a small roar of voices in the distance, the sound of something hard hitting flesh, and then, silence. After another moment, she heard more footsteps approaching, and the people surrounding her backed away. Blinding light hit her in the face as the bag opened, and she saw with desperate relief the face of her master above her. He scowled and motioned for someone she couldn't see to cut her bindings. A guard approached her and complied and Hanni attempted to right herself, but her muscles were still weak from the injection.

"Surround the building, and dispose of this carcass," Tivan ordered his guards. Hanni looked behind her and saw the dead body of the burly monster who had attempted to carry her off. His golden skin was marred with filth and scars, his hair sparse and patchy, an odor coming off of him like sweat and spoiled milk. A hole was burnt through his chest where he had been shot. It took four of the guards to lift him and carry him to a waiting vehicle – the one Danissa and her companion must have been waiting to load her into – they entered and left. Hanni wobbled to her feet, her head reeling, only her and her master left in the alley behind his museum. He began to walk back towards the rear door, motioning for Hanni to follow, but she tripped and fell in the muddy street, still dazed and numb. Embarrassed, but in a pinch, she called out.

"Master..."

Tivan turned back to her and noticed her struggle. He gave a soft, irritated sigh, glancing around to see if any guards were still nearby, but resigned himself and held out a white-gloved hand to his slave. She took it carefully and he lifted her up as though she weighed nothing. He wrapped her arm about his shoulders and placed a hand on her hip. Hanni shuddered somewhat at his touch as he practically dragged her to the door, through the halls, and into the main corridor of the museum, where he dumped her unceremoniously into a chair that still had tendrils of smoke rising from it – the previous occupant, one of the male guests Tivan had been entertaining, was lying on the floor, lifeless, his wounds smoking. The other visitors were not there, but Hanni had a good idea of where they might be. She was still wearing the thin blue dress she had been sold in, and the cold of the museum made her shiver and wrap her arms about herself for warmth. Suddenly she felt something warm and soft cover her nearly-bare shoulders and she looked up to see Tivan wrapping his fur cloak about her. Surprised, she tried to modestly refuse, but he gave her a look of stern insistence.

"You are in shock," he explained. "That's why you are numb, and cold."  
>"I thought it was whatever Danissa gave me," she mumbled, suddenly perking up with realization. "She was going to take me...!"<p>

Her master waved a hand for her silence, bored.

"I already know all this. My guards told me as much. Honestly, it was a very sloppy attempt on their part – they underestimated me and my control of Knowhere." He chuckled slightly. "I found out within seconds where the pretend slave had taken you."

"So, it was all a setup?" she asked meekly. "Why?"

"I'm afraid that one is... my fault," he said haltingly, as though hesitant to admit he was wrong. "I paid an exorbitant sum for you; I should have expected some would wonder why you were so expensive, and I cannot act surprised that there would be a kidnapping attempt."

Hanni was genuinely curious now as to what her price had been. _Just how much_ did_ he pay that people would want to resell me?_ she wondered with alarm.

"So... the visitors... Danissa... they were only here for _me?"_

"Yes. I assume, anyway – there's no telling what else of mine they would have tried to steal once I'd have become distracted by your disappearance."

"Oh," she said. She was still so curious... "Master," she began, "How much..." Hanni fell off, shutting her mouth and looking away, ashamed by her sudden rudeness.

He raised an eyebrow and gave her a look of disappointed annoyance. She shrank under his gaze and apologized.

"Seventy-five thousand," he decided to respond.

Hanni gasped, suddenly covering her mouth in embarrassment. She cowered and begged his forgiveness, but he held up a finger for her silence.

"You were not worth that much," he said, though without insult in his tone. "It was mostly for... bragging rights," he admitted, though Hanni could hear no shame in his voice. "By paying top money for a slave, I was bound to attract attention – _good_ attention. I have units enough, and purchasing respect and admiration is certainly a lot easier than gaining it right now." He suddenly laughed a little. "Half of my collection is destroyed; if I want to rebuild it I will need visitors and sellers. They would not come for a man whose home is in shambles unless they knew he still had money."

He turned to her with a smile and Hanni suddenly felt sorry for him. His collection consumed his life; it was _everything_ to him. Now he had hardly anything left – she supposed owning something expensive, even if he had set the exorbitant price himself, likely made him feel normal again. She returned his smile, her eyebrows still knit up in concern.

"Well... _thank you_," she whispered. She honestly meant it. Not for how much he had paid for her, necessarily, but for the fact that he found her valuable enough to save her.

Tivan nodded in curt acknowledgment, turning away from her. Suddenly he paused.

"Tomorrow we will get you new uniforms," he said bluntly. "If people are to know how much I paid for you, you must look as much as you are worth."

And with that he left her alone to mull over in her mind what he had said.

_As much as you are worth._


	6. Buying finery

Hanni held the door open for her master, who swished into the store gracefully and began to examine the place. Most shops in Knowhere were merely streetside stalls – an actual place of business was rare, and no doubt expensive. The proprietor hurried from the back, taking in his customers carefully, eying them up and trying to calculate how much their business would be worth. He was tall and scrawny, with graying black hair and a thin mustache, dressed impeccably and reeking of spicy cologne. His ruddy red skin was flattered by his gray silk suit. Hanni saw her master sneer slightly, but he raised an eyebrow at the clothing offered. It _was_ nice...

_Maybe _too_ nice, _she thought. _Why would my master bother with such finery when he still hasn't even asked me my name?_ Hanni decided it must be related to what he had said the first night he had brought her back – that as his property, she was a reflection on him. Now she was just surprised he hadn't done this sooner.

"I need clothes for my servant," her master said immediately, either not patient enough for niceties today or not wanting to waste them on someone who was serving him. "You know who I am, of course?"  
>"Of course, sir," the owner said gently with a flattering smile. "What are you interested in? Style or function?"<br>"If it was merely a matter of function I would not have come here," Tivan snapped slightly. The man nodded, nonplussed.  
>"Very well, sir, we shall accommodate you. The session shall cost..."<br>"I don't care," he said in a bored voice. "Just make her look presentable."

"Yes, sir," the skinny man said, calling two female assistants to help him, one an older blonde with a dumpy frame and the other a young sliver of a thing, with ghostly white eyes and pale blue skin. They attended to Hanni silently while Tivan smoked with the owner in the corner, muttering things here and there as the sniveling man showered him with compliments and questions. The Collector blew a cloud of white smoke into the air, the smell of cherries drifting throughout and to where Hanni was being measured. She smiled at the scent.

After nearly an hour of fussing and discussing, the two women and owner had several piles of pre-made clothing waiting for them to take.

"Have them delivered," Tivan said, handing over a very thick stack of paper units. After considering, he pointed to the pile and then to Hanni's current blue dress and said, "But dress her in one now, and dispose of that wretched thing."

The younger woman grabbed a knee-length gown of emerald green with a trim of white gemstones that glittered in the light and handed it to Hanni. Once she had dressed, she stepped back out and couldn't help but smile at her master. The owner approached her with pride and gestured for Tivan to inspect the careful threading and overall elegance of the dress. The two men looked her up and down carefully and Hanni felt a little like a piece of meat, but tolerated all silently until she felt a thick hand grab the side of her hip. Suddenly, Tivan struck out and smacked the owner's hand away from his slave with a sharp sound.

"Do not touch what isn't yours," he snapped forcefully.

The man bowed apologetically but threw him a defiant eye as they left, Hanni being careful not to make a disgusted face in his direction. Escorted by guards as usual, they walked down the street in silence until finally Tivan broke it.

"You are not for anyone's service, work, or touch, save mine," he said. Hanni wasn't sure if he was admonishing her or warning her of possible scoundrels. Maybe it was both. Tivan stopped and turned to her. "I paid for you, always remember that. If some creature tries to impose upon you, you have my permission to fight them. Kill them, maim them, I don't care – but just remember that you are _mine._"

Hanni nodded in acknowledgment and her master gave a soft grunt, satisfied. They continued walking back to the museum.

He suddenly pulled a thoughtful face and asked, "What is your name, by the way?"

"Hanni."

"_Hanni," _he repeated, but with his unplaceable accent it came out more like _honey_. She decided she liked it.


	7. Pour me some wine

"Pour me some wine," Tivan ordered as he sat on the stool in the kitchen, somewhat frustrated. The rims around his eyes were darker than usual and he looked absolutely miserable. Hanni reached for a black bottle on the rack, but he snapped, "Not that one, the one next to it, with the red label."

She nodded and grabbed it, examining the foreign writing as she poured the drink into an ornate glass. The wine was a dark, bloody red and smelled like cherries, just like the leaves he smoked. Hanni found herself becoming very fond of the smell. He sipped it somewhat noisily at first, then gulped it completely and placed the glass back down on the counter. She poured him more and he smiled.

"I didn't even have to ask," he muttered.

She didn't want to say what was really on her mind, as in, _You look like you need it, master,_ and instead just said, "No point wasting a good bottle of wine on one drink."

He chuckled and raised his glass to her before starting in on it, examining her above the rim, his smirk fading. He polished off the drink once more, licking his lips with relish.

"You should eat," she suggested.

"You should know your place," he retorted.

Hanni blushed and set the bottle down on the counter. He breathed deeply and removed his white gloves, setting them to the side with a sigh and running his fingers through his white hair. Despite his reprimand, she still felt genuine concern for him; though she was his slave, she did not hate him. She bit her lip before asking, "Are you feeling alright, master?"

"No," he said, rubbing his temples.  
>"Headache?"<br>"How did you ever guess?" he snapped.

_Then wine probably isn't the best thing for you right now,_ she thought, but instead reached across the counter to remove the glass. He reached forward and grabbed her hand roughly, though not painfully.

"Leave it," he commanded.

Hanni looked down at his hands to notice his black nail polish was chipped away almost completely and his nails were long. His makeup was smudged and he looked exhausted. His bruises had long since healed, but Hanni noticed the bandage around his head was old. She left the kitchen and walked to the closet Tivan normally kept locked, but for which he had given her a key. She retrieved the yellow liquid he had once used to treat her lacerated hand, as well as gauze and a small white towel. She returned to her master, whose head was in his hands, and gently began to unwrap the old bandage from his forehead. He looked up in alarm, but realized what she was doing and let her go. Carefully she unwound everything, examining the cut he had covered up – it was finally just about gone and what had healed was not scarring, but vanishing. She wasn't really surprised – he was an ancient, powerful being after all – no doubt he would have been long dead were it not for whatever powers he possessed naturally, including what must have been strong healing. Hanni tossed the bandage and washed her hands, returning to make sure the healing wound wouldn't need further care. Tivan was staring down his third glass of wine as Hanni gently moved his tall hair back to inspect his forehead. Deciding that he would be fine, she turned to grab the items and put them back into the closet, but he grabbed her wrist and held her there.

"Do that again," he mumbled.

"Master?"

He looked at her, his eyes dark and tired.

"With your hands," he muttered impatiently, quickly polishing off the third glass of cherry wine.

"Oh," she said, a little surprised. "Okay."

She set the items down and hesitated for a moment. _An order is an order,_ she thought, placing her fingers against his forehead. Hanni pulled her hands back through his hair and he suddenly moaned. Smiling a little, she brought her nails down and began gently raking her fingers back along his head, eliciting a sigh of pleasure from his lips as he leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes. She continued the massage for several minutes before he finally began to snore, his breath coming in slow, heavy gasps. Hanni looked at him with a mix of pity and affection, removing the soft cloak from her shoulders and balling it up into a makeshift pillow on the counter. She gently tipped him forward in the chair so that his head was lying upon it, and there she left him to his deep sleep.


	8. Fear

Taneleer Tivan woke slowly, like coming up through water for a breath of air. He was groggy and irritable, but at least he no longer had a headache. Suddenly he smelled something sweet and comforting, more so than the cherry wine he still tasted on his tongue. He lifted his head and opened his eyes to discover with a little bewilderment that he had fallen asleep on the counter.

_How...?_ he thought, but suddenly remembered gulping down a third glass of wine, Hanni tending to his wound and running her fingers through his hair. He suddenly scowled as he noticed he had been sleeping on the balled up cloak she had been wearing earlier. _Why?_ he thought, but quickly dismissed it. She was his slave, after all; his comfort was her main priority – that was what he had bought her for. He righted himself completely with a groan, clutching the cloak in his hands and shuffling out to the main corridor.

Examining the room, he realized it must have been night according to general universal time – the lights in his collection were dimmed and the doors had already been locked. His slave was nowhere to be seen. Assuming she must have been asleep already, he walked slowly around the remains of his collection, impressed by how much had been cleaned in the nearly two weeks he had had his servant. His footsteps made sharp clicks against the metal as usual, a sound he much preferred over the noise of crunching glass and rubble beneath his feet. He wiped his bare hand across a scarred table and paused to examine the photo he had placed there, suddenly sad over the state of the frame. He could no longer see the picture beneath the broken glass, but knew what was there all the same. Tivan continued walking his collection slowly, earning a few glances from his surviving exhibits. He examined a dark elf captive for a moment before turning away, the sudden appearance of Hanni in the room admittedly startling him. His eyebrows went up and she gave him an apologetic look. He noticed that her hair was wet and hanging about her shoulders – she must have just bathed.

"Feeling better?" she asked quietly.

"Yes," he said. He paused for a moment before adding, "Thank you."

Hanni nodded and crossed her arms, looking about her. Her master rubbed his eyes groggily with the thumb and index finger of his right hand, and Hanni noticed the ruined nail polish once more.

"I can fix that for you," she suddenly blurted, and Tivan gave her a long stare. "If you wanted," she mumbled, falling off. He looked at his hands and noticed with chagrin that they _were_ in poor shape. He had really been letting himself go lately.

"Very well," he said after a moment, sitting in a plush chair by the side of the room and drumming his fingers gently on the small end table next to him.

Hanni stared at him for a second before realizing he meant _now._ He raised an eyebrow at her, but told her where to find the necessary supplies and she went to retrieve them, returning quickly and piling them on the small table next to where her master was sitting. The surface was too small for her to tend to his hands, however; she decided to kneel on the ground to get a better angle. Hanni reached up gently and took her master's hand in her own – his touch was warm and his hands soft, despite the recent lack of pampering. She set to work slowly and he closed his eyes in relaxation. She was afraid he had fallen asleep again, but continued regardless for several minutes. Hanni put lotion in her palms and began gently massaging her master's hands and he sighed softly. She took it as an encouraging sign and couldn't help but smile a little.

Tivan relaxed in the chair as his slave worked on him, finally applying the thick black nail polish he was so fond of. He mentally admitted – somewhat begrudgingly – that her concern for him was valid. He had been utterly distracted and morose as of late, after everything that had happened. The loss of the orb was devastating enough, let alone half of his home, collection, part of his business, and quite a large portion of respect throughout the galaxy. Bad news traveled faster than he would have liked, and though no one doubted it was all due to the stupidity of his last slave, the fact remained that she had been _his_ slave. Her actions made him look like a fool, and after the initial anger and fury came the sinking depression. He had hoped paying so much for his new slave would have brought him respect again, but so far it had only attracted vagabonds and thieves. Tivan's play wasn't for power; he could have that easily enough. He _did_ have a lot through his corporation and black market trading... but it was not enough. The urge to gather unique and valuable beings, bits and baubles was nearly overwhelming – he knew he wouldn't feel normal again until he was adding to his collection. Suddenly he felt Hanni blowing on his fingertips and it sent shocks through his body. He jumped a little in his chair and she looked up at him inquisitively.

"Does that bother you?" she asked.

"What are you doing?" he asked, more gruffly than he had intended.

"Drying your nails," she said, a fearful expression suddenly flitting across her features.

Tivan felt a quick tinge of guilt, which surprised him. He relaxed and reached for a small jar of clear liquid and handed it to his slave and explained, "This will dry them immediately."

"Ok," she said, her voice small.

_She still fears me,_ he thought. _She should..._ But that felt _wrong,_ somehow. After all, fear and punishment hadn't worked with his last slaves. He wondered if it had something to do with their Krylorian heritage, as their people were better pleasure-seekers and art-lovers than they were workers, but couldn't be sure. After all, Hanni was of an entirely different species, but she still appeared to be scared of him. Tivan sighed a little and his slave glanced up at him again.

"Master?" she asked, concern on her face again. She always seemed so _worried_ about him.

_Why should she care?_ he wondered. He knew it was mandatory for her to serve him and fulfill his every whim, but to show actual affinity was _not_ something she was obligated to do. She had finished his nails and he could finally leave her presence, but...

"Do you fear me?" The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them.

"No, master," she responded quickly, then equally as fast, "I mean, _yes,_ master."

"Which one is it?" he asked, leaning forward.

Hanni looked back at him in earnest, doubt upon her face once more.

"I'm terrified," she whispered. Tivan wasn't sure why but his heart sank.

"_Why_ do you fear me?"

Her lip trembled slightly and she bit it.

"Because you're my master. I'm _supposed _to..."

Tivan sighed deeply and reached out, placing his freshly manicured hand upon her cheek. Hanni jumped at first, but looked into his eyes. He stroked her face gently with his thumb, leaning forward a little more.

"You do not need to," he said softly.

Hanni's lips parted and she closed her eyes slightly, but her master released her cheek, rose, and walked away to his quarters without another sound, leaving his slave still sitting on the floor.


	9. Lost tempers

Hanni concentrated on the pan in front of her, cooking some sort of spotted eggs and slivers of cured meat. It was nearly morning according to the clock, and since she could not sleep, she decided to make breakfast for herself. The near-month she had lived here had flown by rather quickly – she had been surprised to realize how long she had been Tivan's slave once she looked at the calendar. From the moment she was purchased, she had expected that the rest of her life would be long, drawn-out misery peppered with monotonous labor and fatigue. What she did not expect was her master treating her decently or giving her good amenities and comfort. Hanni could not find it within herself to complain – Tivan hardly made her feel like a slave, though his behavior bordered on the bizarre at times. Sometimes he was hushed and reclusive, other times soft and congenial. She found herself having to do behavioral gymnastics herself to accommodate for his moods. As she pondered this, the man himself entered the kitchen. Nervous, though quiet, Hanni served him the food she had been making for herself, wondering if he would bother to eat today. His face had been starting to look gaunt and he was constantly tired – her concern for him grew. She returned to the stove to remake her own dish, trying to watch her master with a sideways glance. Tivan removed his white gloves and set them aside, Hanni noticing with pride that his nails were perfect. He glanced at the food in front of him and hesitated, raising his eyes to his slave.

"Was this not yours?" he asked.

"I'm making mine now," she said, flipping the meat in the pan.

"The... gesture... is appreciated, but it was not necessary to give me your food."

"Master, it tastes much better hot," she suggested, still hoping he'd finally eat a decent meal.

He sighed and took a small, slow bite. Hanni could have cried with relief, but she merely smirked to herself and continued cooking. But she heard him set down the fork with a soft _click_ and felt a sharp stab of anger. _Control yourself,_ she thought.

"Master," she asked with a restrained tone, "Why don't you ever eat what I make for you?"

_Maybe he still thinks I'd try to poison him?_

"You are not in a position to ask questions," he suddenly snapped. "Do your job."  
>"I can't if my master starves to death!" she nearly shouted back, anger getting in the way of her better judgment. To her surprise, he did not scream at her, but rose from his chair quietly and approached her, his hands clasped across his stomach, business-like.<p>

"You are taking too many liberties," he said softly, dangerously. Hanni felt fear quickly rising in her throat. "It would not be wise to displease me. There will be no more warnings."

"Yes, master," she whispered, hanging her head, tears welling in her eyes.

"I didn't hear you," he growled, suddenly striking out and grabbing her arm painfully and squeezing.

Hanni cried out in pain, but he squeezed harder.

"What was that?" he hissed.

"Yes, _master,"_ she cried, tears falling down her cheeks.

"Good. Now clean up this mess... _slave."_

The last word came out with disgust and he stormed out of the room. Hanni did as he had told her, weeping in pain and confusion.


	10. Overindulgence

Tivan kicked a pair of boots out of his way across his quarters, fuming.

_Who does she think she is?_ he raged. _She is my _slave,_ she cannot talk to me like that!  
><em>

He picked up a useless, damaged bauble he had kept after his collection's destruction and hurled it across the room where it hit the wall and finally shattered completely. Breaking something felt oddly cathartic; he grabbed another piece of junk and threw it against the wall, where it burst and joined the other one. He tossed another, and another, and another, finally running out of ammunition and collapsing on the bed with a dry sob.

_No tears?_ he thought ruefully. He could not recall the last time he had cried over anything – not even when his collection was taken out and he had lost the orb to Gamora and her companions. He tried in vain to remember but realized it must have been decades, if not centuries. The feeling was shameful and he hated himself for it. Tivan did not understand why his slave made him both elated and infuriated. _I hurt her,_ he suddenly realized. _I didn't mean to, but I did._

_She deserved it for talking back to you,_ his mind countered.

_She had only been showing concern._

_Your health is not part of her job; she was out of line._

_I should be grateful she cares._

_No one should ever have to be grateful for a slave._

_But I am._

_Your softness makes you weak._

_I was weak when I let my anger get the better of me. _

He groaned in frustration and pressed his fingers to his suddenly throbbing temples. He reached into his vest for the cherry leaf cigarettes he normally kept there, patting his body quickly when he couldn't find them. Suddenly panicking, he began hurriedly turning out his pockets, tossing the items on his tables, and rapidly rifling through his dresser drawers. Coming up empty, he hissed in anger and stormed out of his room, walking purposefully back to where he had last seen Hanni, in the kitchen. When he entered, she did not notice him at first; she had cleaned the mess and was now weeping silently in the corner, her body shaking with the force of her sobs. He felt vulgar for a moment, ashamed and yet irritated, but approached her nonetheless, stopping about 5 feet before he reached her. He pressed his lips together as she took a shuddering gasp and turned in his direction in terror, hastily wiping her eyes on her arms, keeping her gaze cast down.

"Yes, master?"

He felt a little conflicted asking something of her, but decided that she was his slave after all and what he said was not a request, but an order. All the same, his stomach clenched as he spoke.

"Clean my quarters," he commanded. "When you are done, fetch my smoking leaves from the shop two stalls down from the right of my building. Tell them they are for me, and you will not be charged."

"Yes, master," she said, still not looking at him as she fled from his presence.

In her absence, he grabbed a bottle of dark red wine and poured a glass, then another, and another, and before long he had finished the bottle and his headache was getting worse with every passing second. He began a second bottle already, slumping forward in his chair, placing his chin on one arm and dipping his finger into the wine, running it along the rim of the glass, producing a high-pitched musical whine. By the time Hanni had cleaned his quarters, bought his cherry leaves and returned, he was light-headed and in unbearable pain. She looked at him in sheer alarm and noted the empty wine bottle and the half-empty one beside it. He looked up at her, dark circles settling under his eyes as he muttered something incoherent.

"Master?" she asked meekly, holding her already bruising arm and gazing at him with apprehension.

He laid his head to the side and closed his eyes. Hanni waited a moment before clearing the mess, biting her lip and giving her master a quick glance as she slipped a finger inside one of the bottles, then brought it to her mouth to taste it, closing her eyes and savoring the flavor. Tivan watched her in a daze, not sure what to make of it, but he suddenly coughed and she turned in fright, nearly dropping the bottle. He tried to stand up, but began weaving, clutching the counter as hard as he could to keep from falling. Hanni rushed to his side despite the fact that he had hurt her earlier, wrapping an arm about his waist and encouraging him to lean on her as she assisted him to his room. He chuckled as they reached the bed and she let him down gently, taking off his well-polished boots and covering him with a soft blanket. She turned him on his side, scared that he would become sick during the night and asphyxiate were he on his back. She attempted to leave but he grabbed her wrist firmly and muttered something again. She leaned down to hear him better and she could smell the comforting cherry scent on his breath as he whispered in her ear.

"Don't leave me," he whimpered, the smile fading from his face. "Stay."

"Okay," she said, standing by the side of the bed until he yanked her down to lay next to him, throwing the other half of the blanket over her form.

"My head," he grumbled.

Hanni took that as an order and ran her fingers through his tall white hair as she had the last time he had drunk too much. He moaned and, to her surprise, his eyes were glistening and wet.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, "Sorry..."

"It's ok," she whispered, hesitating briefly before leaning forward and kissing his forehead gently.

When she pulled back, he had already fallen asleep, his hand still wrapped around her arm where he had grabbed her earlier. Throwing caution to the wind, she laid her head on the pillow and fell asleep to the rhythm of his breathing.


	11. Tivan chagrined

Tivan awoke with his head still pounding, his throat parched and his eyes so dry it hurt to blink. He let out a pained grunt and tried to roll over, but found to his surprise that his slave was still lying next to him, breathing softly as she slept. He watched her for a moment, unsure.

_Is this bad?_ he wondered.

Hanni must have felt his gaze because suddenly she opened her eyes. She blushed a little at the situation, quietly rising from the bed and slipping from the room without a word. Hoping to alleviate the pain in his head, but not wanting to bother Hanni at the moment, Tivan drew himself a bath and soaked in the hot water, splashing it over his face and sighing. He knew it wouldn't work, but tried to relax anyway, drifting off to sleep once more.

By the time he had opened his eyes again, the water was cool and the soap bubbles were gone. He shivered, dried, and dressed, walking reluctantly out to his menagerie to see if that could take his mind off of his pain. It was a strange mix of delight and despair to see his slave working once more on his collection, polishing one of several large glass cages furiously. He retrieved one of his cigarettes from the side table where she had left them, lighting it and watching her work through the smoke. She turned slowly at the scent of cherries, facing her master. He laid his smoke aside with a small smile and approached, admiring the shining glass of the container she had just cleaned.

"You certainly are thorough," he said softly.

"Thank you, master," she practically whispered, hanging her head and clutching the brush she had just been using tightly. She was nervous, trembling as he turned to face her completely. Tivan raised his hand and grasped her arm gently, examining the bruise he had caused her. He ran his fingers along it softly and she shivered involuntarily, but said nothing, keeping her head down. He used his other hand to tip her chin up to look him in the eye. Her heart raced. She could smell the cherry leaves on his breath as he spoke.

"For this," he said, grazing her bruise again tenderly, still meeting her eyes with his own, "I am truly sorry. I am not that type of man."

Hanni shook her head and tried to look away again, but he forced her chin up just as quickly.

"Forgive me," he said.

_Is that an order? s_he wondered.

"Forgive me," he repeated, running his smooth fingers down her arm and under her hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing it gently. His mouth was soft and warm against her skin and Hanni could feel herself blushing, but she maintained her gaze. Her master let go of her suddenly, turning back with a flourish to grab his smoke and finish it. Hanni just stood silently, not sure what to say. Tivan drummed his fingers on the table loudly, deep in thought as she watched him curiously. He looked back up to her.

"I'm suddenly hungry," he said slowly.

Hanni laid her chores aside, but as she tried to glide by her master and head towards the kitchen, he reached out and stopped her with a hand.

"Wash yourself," he said, "And dress well. I want to go out."


	12. Dressed to impress

Hanni pulled out a dress from the closet that she hadn't had the heart to destroy with manual labor – it was a deep, elegant burgundy that left her shoulders completely bare, but wrapped around her chest fashionably with thin, flowing sleeves that draped around her elbows and obscured her bruise. She knew that the shopkeepers had chosen her clothing, neither she nor her master really specifying anything beyond "presentable," but of all the random dresses they had given her, this was the most elegant. She slipped it over her body, enjoying the feeling of the silky material against her freshly washed skin. Other than the cheap necklace she had arrived with, which would not match her dress, Hanni had no jewelry. She pulled her hair up into a bun and clipped it with the mock-gold pin she had also brought with her with before leaving her room to join her master in the main hall.

He was dressed impeccably as always, this time wearing black pants, a long-sleeved shirt that matched and a scarlet vest, his shoulders festooned with a golden cape that fell to the small of his back. A chain of black gold hung about his neck and rested against his stomach, with a large, round gem the color of Hanni's dress in the middle of an ornate setting. His hair was done in the usual style, as was his makeup, which covered the dark circles under his eyes.

She approached him cautiously, feeling suddenly quite under-dressed, but he said nothing, only inspecting her up and down as he walked around her. He reached up and unbound her hair, tossing the flimsy hairpin aside and procuring several black ones seemingly out of nowhere. Hanni stood still as he ran his fingers through her hair and bound it back up again, this time more carefully than she had done. He moved a thick lock of hair from the top of her head and let it hang loosely to her shoulder, curling softly all the way down, framing her face elegantly. Tivan stood back to admire his work, but something suddenly occurred to him and he reached up around his own neck and unhooked the black gold necklace, placing it against Hanni's chest and wrapping the excess part of the chain around her neck to form a sort of collar or second loop, allowing the gem to rest against her breastbone at the perfect height. She smiled at him in gratitude, preparing to follow him out the door, but he held his elbow out to her.

"If I am to show you off tonight, you must look like _more_ than a slave," he said.

_You make me feel like I am sometimes,_ she thought, but kept it to herself, taking his elbow instead and walking alongside him to wherever he would lead her.


	13. The dinner party

When they arrived at the building, Hanni was thoroughly unimpressed. It looked faded and rusty on the outside, crude graffiti scribbled here and there on the walls. There was even a very unflattering portrait of her master on the building across the street, though he seemed to ignore it as they passed. Hanni hadn't even mentioned it before he explained, "There are always those who despise others in positions above themselves." He turned to her with a smile. "Pay it no mind."

Tivan escorted her through a pair of burly, gigantic guards and into the rusty, dilapidated building – but it was to her delight to find that as repulsive as the exterior was, the inside was almost indescribably beautiful. The walls were a dark purple velvet with hundreds of photographs and dozens of works of incredible art, intricately carved tables surrounded by plush chairs and gorgeous beings in lavish clothes drinking booze of a thousand different flavors, some groups partially obscured by clouds of smoke in varying colors, everything illuminated by the dim light coming from the crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. She could even hear a lovely band from a far corner, playing delicate but upbeat music. Hanni had to work very hard to keep her mouth from hanging open – she had never seen anything like it. Suddenly her master was whispering in her ear, straining to be heard above the loud voices and music.

"Keep your head up," he warned, "Remember how much I paid for you – you are an exquisite being worth a thousand times what I paid." Hanni blushed and looked at him, surprised by the compliment, but he hastily added, "Well, as far as _they_ know, anyway." He had not meant to be insulting but Hanni felt her ego deflate significantly.

_I'm still a slave,_ she reminded herself. _But at least I'm a seventy-five thousand unit one._

She grinned and gazed at her master who nodded approvingly, taking her arm and leading her to a group of drinking men and women, almost all of whom were of a different species. There were three women, one with white skin, her blue hair pleated into a braid that dangled on the side of her head and a dress that matched. Another had soft pink skin, though she was not Krylorian; it was a pale, almost baby-pink that looked even lighter under the woman's flaming red mop of hair and sharp, harsh horns that jutted out from her cheeks. The last female had green and black striped skin and a very thin strip of black hair that ran from her widow's peak to the back of her neck, where it ended in a skinny ponytail bound in beads. The five men were equally as glamorous, for the most part. There was a fat one with gray skin and long silver hair that fell to his ample buttocks, wearing a velvet smoking jacket and holding a pipe in his hand. Two of the other males were identical, with chocolate-colored skin and burning gray eyes, heads shaved completely, wearing matching golden clothes, twin patterned tattoos inked into their foreheads. Another man was thin and had watery pink eyes that matched his slicked back hair – he was pale and dressed in emerald-colored robes, with numerous thick gold hoop earrings and a funny-smelling green cigarette between his lips. The last man was a fit, though aged man with blonde hair that was giving way to silver at the temples, time-worn features, eyes nearly hidden behind tan glasses, and the faded purple suit he wore making him blend somewhat with the wall. They greeted Tivan as an old friend, though Hanni saw quite a few exchange smirks and meaningful glances. They shook hands or bowed politely, but when the niceties were done Hanni could feel their collective gaze upon her.

"Tell me, Tivan, is that it...?" said the fat man through his pipe, gesturing to Hanni. She and Tivan knew full well these people must have known she was his slave, but her master smiled and guided her forward with a grand gesture.

"This is Hanni," he said, "My new... servant."

Hanni bowed politely but said nothing. _Be good,_ she thought. _Be perfect._

"Was she worth the seventy-five thousand?" asked the green and black woman in a husky, growling voice. Hanni noticed with interest that her teeth were sharp and pointed.

"Worth every single unit," he said proudly.

"What makes her so valuable?" the twins asked in unison, their voices deep and almost hypnotic. Hanni was astonished that they were so bold in their questions of another's property and money, but supposed since they used those things for status and bragging rights that it was only natural that they made for regular conversation.

"Cleaning, cooking, and more," he said loftily. "She's an excellent cook."

Hanni tried not to look at her master in shock; he hardly ate anything. She assumed he was bluffing and continued keeping her mouth firmly shut.

"What else can she do?" the pink, fierce-looking woman asked why a coy smile. Tivan raised and eyebrow and leaned in towards his colleagues closely.

"That is for my knowledge only," he teased in a low tone, then chuckled, the group following suit.

_Are they joking?_ she thought. _Ah,_ she figured,_ but then why else would they think he had paid so much?_ Hanni let a knowing smirk slide across her features. _Sneak,_ she thought with a grin.

The lot of them continued talking business or pleasure or money or news; Hanni couldn't be sure of all of it, since she wasn't really listening. Her job was to stand there demurely and look good for her master. She thought she was doing a very good job so far. Tivan had been sitting at the table with the others, drinking a little and eating even less while his slave stood behind him quietly, nibbling on fruit she had been offered. After almost an hour, she noticed Tivan was beginning to look haggard and drawn. His jaw twitched as he clenched his teeth and he had started rubbing his temples every so often. Hanni tried to catch his eye, but he was busy listening to his friends politely. Finally the fat one cracked a joke, they all laughed, and Tivan used the break in conversation to excuse himself. They began shouting and protesting, obviously in much better spirits and feeling more camaraderie than when he had first arrived, but he insisted, standing up and thanking them with a bow.

"I have much, much business to attend to," he said, shifting his golden cloak nonchalantly, the glint of it successfully catching his friends' eyes, "I must say having half my collection being incinerated was truly a blessing in disguise." They looked to him in surprise and he smirked triumphantly. _Now to lay my cards out._ "After all, now I have so much more room for luxuries, empty spaces to fill... I cannot wait to start purchasing more exhibits." His comrades looked at him seriously, thoughtful and muttering to each other in low tones as he bowed politely once more and held his elbow out to Hanni. She gave a small curtsey to the group and took his arm delicately with a grin.

"That could not have gone better," he practically giggled, a laugh she returned willingly as he kissed her delicately on the cheek.


	14. Relief

Tivan relaxed in a thick, luxurious chair with a hot cup of tea as he met with visitor after visitor after visitor. A few were simply curious about the museum, or Hanni herself, but since meeting his friends, the Collector had mostly attracted sellers. A lot of it was useless junk, some of which he bought and some of which he did not, but peppered here and there throughout the lousy items were genuine rarities... most of which were not legally traded items. Hanni swore she saw a massive, dangerous weapon, but didn't concern herself with it. _His business,_ she reasoned. She had been Tivan's for nearly two months now; they had fallen into a happy pattern of preparing for guests and celebrating his successful purchases afterward. He had not had headaches since he had last seen his friends at what Hanni could only describe as a club, and though his appetite had not improved much it had at least improved a _little_. She brought her master and his visitor new cups of hot tea, but the woman refused and collected her things congenially, thanking him for business and leaving quickly. Tivan sighed with pleasure, laughing good-naturedly and lounging in the chair, spinning a small, diamond-encrusted egg in his hands. He handed it off to Hanni and she placed it carefully in a tiny, but sturdy bell jar on a shelf near the wall before returning to the kitchen to wash the unused tea cup. She had just finished rinsing it out when her master entered with a smile, leaning on the door frame. Hanni returned the grin as always and offered him some cookies she had made. He hesitated before taking one, but made a noise of enjoyment as he ate it.

"Wine for our next guest," he commanded, licking his fingers with a glance at Hanni. "And treat yourself to a glass."

"Master?" she asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"I saw you enjoy it once," he said with a sly expression. "You've done well so far. Reward yourself."

Hanni tried to politely decline, but he cut across her with a chuckle.

"That's an order," he said as turned away, suddenly pausing as he strode from the kitchen. "You know," he said slowly, turning back to her with an earnest stare, "You're one of the best purchases I have ever made." With that, he swished from the room, awaiting his next guest in the main foyer. Hanni felt her cheeks redden slightly with the offbeat compliment, but suddenly remembered the wine, pulling two glasses from the cupboard, then deciding to grab a third.

_Why not?_ she reasoned. _This is his last customer tonight anyway._

Once the man had arrived and they set to business, Hanni brought the bottle out, pouring it carefully and exiting without another word. She waited in the kitchen, but could hear almost all of the conversation from the main chamber. That was how Tivan wanted it, for the most part, so he could call her easily if she was needed. She relaxed against the counter, eating a cookie and finally pouring herself a small glass of the cherry wine that was her master's favorite, taking a small sip with relish.

"...But how much _would_ you want?" asked the man.  
>"I told you," her master responded calmly, "She is not for sale."<br>"Everyone and everything has a price, Tivan."  
>"No," he said more firmly.<br>"Name it," the man said. "Name it and I'll pay it right now. You spent seventy-five hundred, yes?"  
>"Seventy-five <em>thousand,<em>" her master corrected, "But as I said, I will _not_ sell her."  
>"Why not?" the man asked irritably.<br>"Because you are a beater. I know you are. Your last slave killed herself, as I recall."

There was an awkward pause and Hanni's heart went into her throat – what if Tivan _did_ have a price for her?

"She served her purpose for as long as necessary. What makes _your_ slave's skin so valuable?" the man sneered. "Why are you so attached to her?"  
>"Why are <em>you?<em>" he countered softly.  
>"You paid seventy-five thousand units for her – she must be <em>quite<em> incredible. What exactly is she good at, by the way...?"  
>"That's my business," Tivan said curtly.<br>"A hundred."  
>"Pardon me?"<br>"A hundred thousand units and I get to take her home with me today."  
>"You're insulting me."<p>

Hanni began to panic in earnest. _Everyone and everything has a price._

"One hundred fifty. That's _double_ what you paid, Tivan."  
>"I am warning you, ser, our previous lucrative arrangements with my exports notwithstanding, our business will soon be at an end if you do not stop."<p>

"Two hundred thousand. Cash." Hanni heard the shuffling of thin papers that could only be paper units. She held her hand against her heart and panted fearfully. Her master was not saying anything yet, but she heard him shift in his chair. Finally, he spoke, but in her terror, Hanni's grip on the glass of wine slipped and it shattered on the floor, her master's response lost in the commotion. Hanni cursed herself and bent to clean the pieces with shaking fingers, straining to listen, but she heard footsteps leave the building and then everything was silent. As soon as she had finished cleaning, her master entered with perfect timing, draining one of the two wine glasses in his hand that he set on the counter next to him. She froze, examining him carefully.

_Is he celebrating? _she wondered with horror, _Or just coming to say goodbye?_

Her lower lip trembled and she approached him with a sad glance. He grazed her face softly with his hand and she let slip a tear. He looked at her with bewilderment.

"I don't want to go with him!" she suddenly pleaded, clasping her hands in front of her desperately. To her surprise, Tivan laughed and clutched her hands, bringing her close for an embrace. "Please," she whispered, tears rolling down her face. "Please, please, please..."

He ran his fingers through her hair gently and gave a soothing purr.

"Of money I have more than enough," he said softly. "I can buy and sell almost anything I need to."

_Including another slave,_ Hanni thought bitterly, but nodded.

"But do you want to know what I need more than anything?" he blew into her ear.

She shook her head, terrified and concerned.

"Another one of those cookies you made," he whispered.

Hanni looked at him in complete shock and he pulled away, laughing and grabbing one of the treats and polishing it off with a mischievous grin, leaning back against the counter opposite. She gaped at him with incredulity and he gave her a smug look.

"I thought you had sold me to that pig!" she whined, drying her eyes and giggling with giddy relief.

"Why would I do that?" he asked, raising his thick white eyebrows.

"I'm still a slave, after all," she sighed. "I'm your property, to do with as you please."

"Exactly," he suddenly snapped, raising a finger. "And what pleases me most is _not_ selling you to a beater." He appeared to mull something over for a moment. "You must not think very highly of me."

"Master," she said, shaking her head and approaching him again. "I _do_ think highly of you, I just... I know that if you want to continue your collection, you need money – selling me for a profit and just buying a cheap slave would make sense, especially now that you don't need me for bragging rights anymore."

Tivan pressed his fingers to his eyes and spoke to her slowly, as though she were dim.

"I told you I have plenty of money. As to how much? Well, what comes after trillions?"

Hanni looked at him in shock, but he smiled and crossed his arms, leaning back against the counter again.

"After how long – how _truly_ long – I have lived, I have had more than enough time to accrue enough to buy the entire galaxy, should I want to. Compared to that, you were a small pittance, but I still needed the attention."

"Then why keep me once you had it?" she asked in a hushed tone. He licked his lips and stepped towards her, looking down into her soft face with a humored look.

"I do not wish to break in a new slave," he said, running a finger along his chin thoughtfully before suddenly putting on a slight scowl. "And why would you complain? You said yourself you would like to stay here. I might ask the same question... why?"

Hanni crossed her arms protectively, but confessed, "You treat me a lot better than I could ever hope to be treated." She looked at him in earnest, but then hung her head back down. "I know I'll never receive such luxuries or... good company... anywhere else."

"Good company?" he asked, sidling closer and lifting her chin up with his soft hand.

"Yes," she breathed, not knowing what else to say. Her heart was pounding.

Tivan narrowed his eyes and leaned in slightly, but just as quickly released her from his grasp and turned away, his fur cloak swishing behind him with his movements. He paused and laced his fingers together, thinking for a moment.

"Why do you want to stay here, Hanni?" he asked, his back still to her, her name once again sounding like _honey_ on his lips. "Truly?"

"Master?"

"I asked you a question," he said in a grumbling voice. "As my slave you must answer me."

Hanni wasn't sure how to respond.

"I... I..." she stumbled, honestly surprised by the sudden shift in tone and his blunt question. She clutched her arms protectively about herself and looked at the floor. "I don't know," she whispered, turning away.

Seemingly annoyed, Tivan trod over to her with heavy steps and grabbed her shoulders, spinning her around forcefully. She looked at him in fear and panic before he pressed his mouth against hers firmly. Her body went completely rigid, petrified. Tivan broke away and wrapped his hands around her face, looking her in the eye as she stared at him in confusion. His mouth was barely an inch from hers.

"Kiss me," he pleaded. "Not because I'm your master, and you're obligated to... but because you're mine, and you want me to."

Hanni hesitated, breathing heavily, but closed her eyes and slowly brought her lips up to meet his own. He opened her mouth and as soon as their tongues met he loosed a soft moan, Hanni echoing it as she slid her fingers up his shoulders and neck and laced them into his hair. She could taste the sweet cherry wine on his breath and melted in his grasp. Tivan held and lifted her effortlessly, placing her upon the counter and planting kisses down her chest. She sighed softly and his hands slid up the outside of her thighs, bunching her dress up about her waist. He brought his face up to meet her eyes once more, saying everything with a glance. Hanni nodded and he continued, both of them trembling with anticipation and, later, relief.


	15. Comfort

Hanni awoke happily, surrounded by an unfamiliar comfort. _Silk._ She scowled a little and opened her eyes, looking about her carefully as reality set it. She had fallen asleep in Tivan's bed, wrapped in luxurious sheets and her master's soft arms. She could feel his bare chest rising and falling against her back with his breaths, not quite snoring but awfully close. His knees were tucked into the back of hers comfortably, an arm held under her neck and the other curled around her, one hand dangling off the side of the bed and the other laid lazily against her stomach. Hanni closed her eyes in happiness and snuggled back into him, scared this was only a dream until she felt his warm lips against the back of her neck. She shivered and he shifted, propping himself up on an elbow and turning Hanni onto her back. She faced him at first, but blushed and looked away. He cupped her chin with his fingers and forced her to look at him, though gently. He bent in and kissed her again and Hanni felt like she was sinking into an ocean.

_This is wrong,_ some part of her said, suddenly guilty, but she ignored it – it felt much better to give in to what she wanted. Their lips parted and he held her closely, running his fingers through her thick black hair. Hanni didn't want to spoil the moment by asking what it was exactly that he wanted from her – as far as she knew, this changed nothing – she was still his slave. He kissed the top of her head and she burrowed her face into his bare chest, placing her hands on his soft stomach and breathing in deeply, no longer detecting the musky scent of cherry leaf smoke, but rather just _him_. He gave a very quiet snort of a laugh and Hanni looked up at him quizzically, but he shook his head and rolled over onto his back, closing his eyes as he stroked her arm. She wrapped her body around his and brought her hands up around his shoulders, his arm winding around her and resting against the small of her back. They laid like this for minutes in complete silence, until Tivan suddenly said what was on both their minds.

"Was this wrong?" he asked quietly, as if saying it too loudly would make it true.

"No," said Hanni, straightening to look him in the face and shaking her head. "I don't think it could be – something – something so good wouldn't..." She fell off, feeling a little embarrassed. This situation was new to her, and if she was being honest, she really didn't know how to handle it. He leaned up and kissed her and suddenly it felt right again.

"This sort of thing happens all the time to others," her master rationalized.

"You're right," said Hanni, grasping at the excuse. "At least you didn't purchase me for that exact purpose," she said.

"True," he conceded, his eyebrows going up as he examined her thoughtfully. "I hope you're..." He looked unsure for a moment. "I hope you don't feel regret," he said.

She shook her head and smiled, leaning forward and kissing his warm, thick lips. Tivan reciprocated and laid her back, rolling on top of her once more. Hanni knew this couldn't last forever, but she would enjoy it while it did.


	16. The frame

The first thing she heard as she awoke was his heavy breathing, Tivan was curled around her, warm and comfortable, sleeping deeply enough that when Hanni removed herself, he did not wake. She dressed quickly and tiptoed from his room and back to hers, gathering clean clothes and taking a bath. The clock said it was nearly 6 a.m.

Tivan stirred fretfully in his sleep. A honey-skinned woman with dark hair teased him from far away, he leaped after her but when he approached she was crying and disintegrated to sand in his hands. He sat bolt upright, sweating profusely and shaking slightly, noticing his slave's absence with dismay. He showered quickly to calm himself, dressed richly as usual, and was back to his stoic self once he had returned to the main room of his museum. Catching his eye immediately was the still-broken silver frame on the battered desk on the opposite side of the room. He walked towards it cautiously as though it were a ticking bomb, picking it up with care and finally dusting it off. He still couldn't see it clearly through the cobweb pattern of damage to the glass, but ran his fingers lightly over it in recognition. A slight smile crept up on his lips and his eyes burned briefly before he set the picture back down and turned back to the rest of his collection. Though it was still somewhat slow-going, his new glass containers were filling nicely with new acquisitions and purchases. He paused in front of a cage with a beautiful bird inside, whistling to it softly as it pecked the small tree he had placed inside for it to perch on. He watched it in satisfaction for a little while until he suddenly smelled something cooking – _Hanni __is __up__._

He crossed his museum and entered the kitchen, relieved to see her familiar (now _very_ familiar) form in front of him. He came up behind her silently and slipped his hands about her waist as she was cooking; she did not flinch, only turned slightly, smiling with acknowledgment and returning to her task. He grunted and forced her around to face him, she looked surprised at first but smiled coyly and looked away. He lifted her chin and kissed her lips tenderly. She returned the embrace with equal fervor, wrapping her arms about his neck slowly. The whole thing still felt foreign, but Hanni knew she wanted this more than anything. She could not speak for her master, but she felt soaring happiness and pressed her lips harder against his. He pulled away after a moment with a smirk and seated himself on one of the bar stools at the counter, stifling a yawn and running a hand through his hair. She served tea the way he liked it, strong with honey, and gave him a breakfast she didn't expect him to eat. When she sat down to eat her own meal, however, it was to her surprise to see Tivan had already finished half of what she had served him. _Finally._ Hanni sighed with relief and drank her tea with smug satisfaction.

When everything was done and she had cleaned up the kitchen, Hanni left to continue her chores on the main floor. It was nearly 7:30, and the museum would be opening soon. She began polishing the wooden furniture along the sides of the room, but froze at the heavily beaten one Tivan had still not replaced. She scowled at it and turned to her master, who was sitting in a plush chair and reading something in a language she didn't know. _It's still not my place to say anything,_ she calculated, _even if we are... closer._ Deciding her master likely kept it around for some reason, she began wiping it down, moving items around as she polished it, but paused again when she reached the broken picture frame. Something that was important enough to honor as the centerpiece of this desk surely wasn't mean to be left forgotten and shattered. She brought it to Tivan, standing in front of him silently and waiting for acknowledgment. He raised a finger as he finished reading a paragraph, then glanced up at her. She presented the photo to him and asked, "Shouldn't we put this in a nicer frame?"

Tivan suddenly frowned and set the picture face-down on his lap, picking up his book again and saying nothing. Hanni took that as her cue to leave him alone and continued her chores mutely for a few hours until more guests arrived and she went to fetch them drinks. Her master bought a series of mushrooms that glowed from within, placing them in an enclosure in a darker corner of his museum and paying the group who sold them to him handsomely. They left with excitement, counting their units, and Tivan returned to his book wordlessly. Hanni cleaned the drinks and returned to the main chamber with the intent to keep cleaning, but found herself by her master's side instead, running a hand across the back of his broad shoulders. He took her hand and kissed it, but returned to his book. _Maybe work hours aren't the best time for this,_ she reasoned, returning to her regular cleaning without troubling him further.

When Tivan finally locked the doors for the night and returned to the main hall, Hanni left immediately to bathe again, her arms and clothes covered in furniture polish and wax. Tivan broke out a cherry leaf cigarette and stood contemplating the picture Hanni had handed to him earlier.

_I should find a better frame,_ he conceded, deciding to take a stroll along the market stalls and buy one while Hanni was occupied. He felt strongly that this was something he should do himself. He ambled down one of the nicer alleyways in Knowhere, dressed impeccably as usual and carrying an onyx-tipped staff, though still insisting his guards flank him loosely at all times. After perusing several different stalls for about an hour, he found a beautiful, intricately designed silver frame not unlike the one he currently had, though this had several gemstones set in the corners and was of a higher quality overall. He overpaid for it slightly, demanding delivery, then suddenly noticed something in a different shop across the street. Tivan walked over to the stall and examined everything at leisure, finally settling his focus on the item that had initially caught his eye.

It was a stunning necklace wrought from black gold, similar to the one he had loaned to Hanni once, though the chain was thinner, shorter, and more delicate. At the end of it, a large black diamond dripped down like a tear, flawlessly cut and sparkling despite the dim light in the stall. Tivan placed his telescopic lenses on his his face and inspected it closely through its glass case, verifying that it was indeed authentic. He was surprised something so rare and expensive would be in such a lousy place – but then again, Hanni had been, too. He smirked at the thought of her and ran a white-gloved hand across his chin dreamily, placing his glasses back in his vest and calling over the proprietor, money exchanging hands quickly.

"You'll have it delivered?" the vendor asked, having done business with Tivan before.

"No," he said, waving the man away and pocketing the box swiftly.

Tivan walked back to his museum almost as if in a trance, collecting the frame from the small street urchin who had delivered it. He had almost forgotten he had purchased it, but entered his home with a pleasant bounce in his step.


	17. A taste of Tivan's past

"Welcome back," greeted Hanni softly from across the main hall.

Tivan nodded, but hesitated.

"What?" she asked, coming down the steps and walking towards him. She saw a small package in his hands and smiled. "Another piece for the collection?"

"More or less," he said, holding the box firmly and eying the broken frame still lying on the plush chair. Hanni followed his gaze and went to retrieve the photo but he stopped her with a shout. She stopped, tossing him a hurt look, but he clutched the box to his chest protectively and walked over to pick up the picture from the chair and hold it tightly, turning away from her. He breathed deeply, Hanni watching the fur cloak on his back rising and falling with his movements. Tivan was the first one to break the silence.

"I'm just... very partial to this photo," he explained, his back still to her.

"May I ask why?" she asked in a hushed tone.

Tivan shook his head, biting his lip. _I never forgot,_ he thought. _It just became harder to remember._

"Okay," she conceded, clutching her hands and moving to leave him alone.

"Wait," he commanded. "Hanni."

She turned back to him and he did the same, the pair facing each other across the room for a moment before he lowered the photograph from his chest. She approached him cautiously in case he changed his mind, but he merely stood there quietly with his head down. When Hanni reached him, he handed her the fresh box and broke the old frame into pieces, letting them fall to the ground as he removed the item from within. He waved his hand for the new one and Hanni hastily took it out of the box, holding it out carefully. Tivan put his precious picture inside the new frame and held it out with gentle hands and a morose glance on his face. Unsure, she stood away respectfully, but he put it back on the beaten desk and she saw that it was just a simple photograph...

_It was him; her master._ Hanni tilted her head and glanced at it, her heart sinking when she also saw a beautiful woman with olive skin and flowing black hair not unlike her own, her arm around an equally pretty young blonde girl whose smile resembled Tivan's...

"Oh, master," she sighed, "You're married?" Her stomach turned in knots and she felt unimaginable guilt. _Married, and with a daughter, no less..._

"No, I'm not," he said, his breath coming out in a small gasp. "Three billion years and I still can't let them go."

_Three what years?_ Hanni wondered, but decided to relent when she saw her master put his gloved hand to his temples and turn away again. She felt completely out of place seeing him like this, unsure as to whether or not a comforting hand would be welcome at this point. She heard him sniff and clear his throat, turning back to her with a forced smile that didn't reach his eyes the way a genuine one would. Hanni glanced at him with pity.

"My apologies," he said with a polite nod, trying to brush past her, but she grasped his elbow and he turned around with a scandalized frown.

_Oh don't even start,_ she thought, suddenly irritated instead of afraid. Tivan must have sensed her mood because he suddenly softened, though remained at a slight distance.

"Are you married?" she asked.

"No," he replied.

"You still wear your ring," she said. She had always just assumed it had been for fashion, but realized she should have brought it up long ago. _I guess I was just afraid to ask._

"I'm aware of that," he snapped. "Just because they're dead doesn't mean it didn't happen."

"You don't have to get hostile," she said softly. He bristled, but she held her hands up in supplication and hung her head. "I'm sorry," she said, truly meaning it. "I wasn't trying to be insensitive. I was only curious."

"You have a right to be, I suppose," he relented with a sigh, looking into her eyes again. "I... My wife, Matani... she died a very long time ago. When our daughter left home. Lost her will to live, apparently." He huffed, suddenly angry and tense again, his voice coming out as a hoarse growl. "As if I was not enough. As if I was not worth living for!" He curled his lip in fury and clenched his fists. "And when our daughter died, it was as if everything else died with her. _Everything._"

Hanni merely watched him silently and sadly. He caught a glimpse of her face and suddenly laughed a little. Not the true laugh that Hanni loved, the excited bark or condescending chuckle, but a harsh, helpless laugh that bordered on a sob.

"Look at me," he sighed, throwing his hands up in misery. "They've been gone for longer than I knew them and still I feel their loss." He slumped into the plush armchair that was his favorite and hung his head in his hands. Hanni bit her lip, hesitating at first, but placed a sympathetic hand on his shoulder and leaned down so that she could look up into his face. His eyes were bloodshot and glistening, but he watched her warily.

"I know that nothing I say can make anything better," she admitted. "But I want you to know that I don't think you're crazy. Or pathetic. You loved them. I love my own family. But even though I know I'll never see them again... it's ok, because the ones we love always live somehow, inside of us. Even when they're gone, they're still with you, and you can choose to mourn that or to embrace it." Tivan lifted his face to stare at her. "You loved them. You _still_ love them, even after _billions_ of years – that may make you a desperate sort of romantic, but to me, that's one of the most beautiful things about you." She ran a hand against his cheek softly and smiled. "Always remember your past, but never forget your future, either."

With that, Hanni stood, kissed him on the cheek and prepared to leave, but his voice rooted her to the spot.

"You're a liar," he said in a low tone. Hanni turned back to him, hurt, but he gripped her hand and kissed it, clarifying, "You did make it better."

She smiled and embraced him as he kissed her, clutching her against him desperately and breathing into her neck.

"I got quite a deal on you," he chuckled softly.


	18. Tivan's conscience

Tivan ran his fingers up his slave's arm softly while she slept next to him, her arm draped across his bare chest comfortably and one of her legs tossed over his. Her stomach rose and fell against his side with her slow breathing – she was fast asleep, and he was wide awake.

_Three months,_ he thought. _I've owned her for three months. And look where it's gotten me._

His business had finally recovered enough that it was almost back to normal (save a few irreplaceable exhibits he still sorely missed) and others' respect for him was even higher than it had been before. Which wasn't particularly saying much, considering the term "Slum Lord" still got thrown around by the more careless of beings in Knowhere, but Tivan rested peacefully knowing the majority of the city relied on him. Well... he _usually_ rested peacefully... He took another look at Hanni, doubt filling him and closing like a frozen hand in his chest.

_What will you do, old man?_ his thoughts leered. _Marry her?_

_I could._

_And have her die in a heartbeat when her mortal lifespan has run its course?_

_We could have another few decades..._

_And then?_

_Maybe we'd have children. I'd get to see limitless generations play out before me._

_If they survive. What happened to your first daughter again?_

Tivan suddenly lashed out at the darkness, growling angrily and panting.

"You ok?" Hanni muttered sleepily beside him.

"Stop worrying about me," he snapped, not meaning to, but not really regretting it, either.

"It's my job," she tried to laugh, tickling his side slightly with her fingers. He pulled away.

"Isn't your job to do what I say?" he said coldly.

"Yes," she answered, hesitating.

"Then mind it. Leave me."

With a sad breath, Hanni rose and left quietly, Tivan sitting alone in his room, in the dark.

_Bravo, _his mind teased.

_Oh shut up._

* * *

><p>Hanni walked slowly back to her room, which had been in slight disuse for the past month. She laid down on the lumpy old mattress on the floor, pulling the dusty, frayed blanket over herself and shifting restlessly in misery. It wasn't the lack of silk sheets that kept her up, the exquisite mattress or luxurious accommodations – it was her master. Or lover? What was he anymore?<p>

_I still clean, cook, entertain his guests, keep his things organized and tidy... but then at night I lay next to him, kiss his lips, feel his body against or inside mine – am I a hostage or a housewife?_

Hanni bit her lip as she always did when unsure or deep in thought, worrying it between her teeth until suddenly she tasted blood. She stopped immediately, but it did not end her tossing and fretting.

* * *

><p>Tivan lay back against his sheets, sweating profusely and drifting between nightmares and daydreams. His eyes flew open as his thoughts came back to yell at him again.<p>

_You're doing an incredible job with your little pet, aren't you?_

_Go away._

_I've been here since you lost your wife. _

_Too long._

_You must need me._

Tivan had no comeback for that, so his subconscious spoke in his head again in its usual snide, teasing tone.

_You're crazy. Does your lover know?_

_She knows what she needs to know._

_Now you sound like me. How much do _you_ know?_

_Enough._

_It's never enough._

"What do you want from me?" he suddenly cried angrily.

He swore he heard a chuckling response.

_Why, I'm here to protect you, Tivan. And your pet._

_Go away._

The voice finally did and Tivan rested his eyes again, drifting off to sleep, but was suddenly awoken again by a nightmare in which Hanni was drowning in one of the containers of his museum, but he merely stood and watched as she did.

_This must end._


	19. Pushing away

Hanni's arms burned as she scrubbed the glass container, a mysterious humanoid creature resting within, dazed and catatonic. She gave it a sympathetic smile it did not return. She took a breath and kept working, getting the cracks and crevasses so as not to upset her master. He had acted funny that morning, and she did not want to gain any more of his ire. It was well past opening hours at this point, but she did not want to risk waking him; she was starting to suspect his mind was not kept as well as the items in his collection.

_Well,_ she figured, _after a few billion years, who could blame him?_

The thought did little to console Hanni, but it made the bitter pill easier to swallow. She suddenly heard the familiar clicking footsteps of her master behind her, but did not turn around. She heard him pause and wondered if he was watching or waiting for a word from her, but she paid him no mind and kept to her task instead. Eventually, he walked away from her and opened the doors, though no one was waiting to be let in and they spent the first several hours of the day in silence. Hanni desperately wanted to embrace him, place kisses upon his brow, console him and take his mind off of whatever was troubling him, but she was still stung and unsure.

Tivan sat in his usual plush chair, running a finger along his lower lip as he watched Hanni scrubbing and polishing the cages of his collection.

_Perhaps I should apologize,_ he thought, debating, but figured it would be a lost formality. _She's my slave; she will learn to accommodate me._

The thought gave him little relief or assurance, however, and he found himself watching her more intently than usual, as if she would try to rebel or run.

_I've apologized to her before, when I was in the wrong,_ he tried to reason, but it was of little use. Something within him burned like a nagging little ember; he could not place its source, but it tore at his insides and made him both furious and exhausted. He finally sighed, grabbing a cherry leaf cigarette and lighting it, inhaling deeply and blowing smoke rings with boredom. Hanni turned at the smell, but did not meet his eyes. He considered for a moment, then snapped his fingers for her attention and motioned for her to approach. She did, and he slapped his thigh in a gesture for her to sit. Again she complied, though she still avoided his gaze as she rested on his lap. She felt him run a bare hand up her back and settle on her neck; she shivered, but did not say anything or respond beyond her initial shudder. Suddenly irritated by her lack of desirable response, Tivan grasped her chin roughly and forced her to look at him. Hanni gazed at him apathetically, though she felt her heart doing somersaults and tried her best to remain calm. Even when she was mad at him, she couldn't resist his touch.

"Do you still fear me?" he asked bluntly, tapping the ashes of his cigarette into a dish on the table next to them.

"Yes," she said without pause.

"I told you that you didn't need to."

"Your actions say otherwise," she said, despite her concern over what his reaction might be. It was a minor act of bravery, but one she likely wouldn't have been capable of even before she had been abducted. _It's funny,_ she thought, _I had to become a slave to find courage._ Her master narrowed his eyes at her as he took another drag from his smoke, contemplating as he brought his brows together.

"Are you forgetting yourself?" he asked, a frightening edge to the tone of his voice.

"No," she said, her voice rising with her fear. She continued anyway. "I know who_ I_ am."

Tivan felt the little dig and was irritated by it, but did not react beside setting aside his cigarette and blowing cherry smoke into the air.

"Do you now?" He smirked and waved a hand for her to elaborate. "Please. _Enlighten_ me."

Hanni wasn't sure what to say – to be honest, she wasn't sure _how_ he was going to react, but his smug patience wasn't a scenario she had played through her head.

"Well..." she stammered, unsure. She looked at Tivan and he raised his eyebrows, making an over-dramatic, expectant expression.

"Well?" he said. "I'm waiting."

Hanni scowled and readjusted herself on her master's lap so that she was facing him more directly. The little bit of courage she has mustered was leaving her quickly and she dropped her gaze. She heard her master give a condescending chuckle.

"Get back to work," he said, shoving her off his lap lightly. Hanni suddenly stomped her foot and turned to face him.

"No," she said.

"Oh?" Her master stood over her and she could feel his sudden anger radiating from him like the heat from a sun. He stepped forward, frowning deeply and intimidating her. She did not shrink, however, and raised her chin to face him, without his assistance for once.

"You need to be clear with me," she demanded.

Tivan lowered his head and narrowed his eyes, keeping them on her. She breathed deep and continued.

"I understand you purchased me. I know that I'm a slave. But..." She took another deep breath. "What more am I?"  
>"You told me you know who you are," he said lowly, dangerously.<p>

"I do know who I am. But I don't know _what_ I am – to you." She bit her lip.

Tivan stepped back and raised his head, looking up at the ceiling and contemplating. When he looked back down, his expression was unreadable and Hanni found it unnerving.

"What do you want?" he asked stoically.

"You, Tivan," she said softly.

"Master."

"What?"

Tivan crossed his arms and scowled at her.

"You will refer to me as _master,_" he corrected unemotionally.

Hanni felt as if her heart was tearing in two, but nodded and hung her head like the perfect slave she now knew she was doomed to be. Tears welled in her eyes and she tried biting her lip to hold them back, but she felt that morning's wound opening and tasted blood once more. Tivan walked away quietly, a hand to his temple as a headache suddenly made an unwelcome appearance. He knew this was for the best, however; _after all,_ he thought, _what possible future could I offer her?_


	20. Hanni challenges her master

The next few weeks flew by without incident or occurrence; business flowed at a steady pace and soon Tivan had a substantial amount of not only new items, but new clients as well. Everything went smoothly and like clockwork, just as it had before. And yet... his conscience nagged at him. At first it was only every few days, after that every other day, then _every_ day... now it was almost constant. As soon as he saw his slave morosely cleaning his collection, silently serving tea, or retreating almost immediately to her quarters at the close of business, he felt as if someone had punched him in the stomach. He hardly slept or ate at all anymore and his headaches were becoming close to unbearable, despite him not drinking. Today he had a migraine and it had been especially exhausting; he locked the doors an hour early and began to walk back through the main hall of the museum, Hanni picking up her cleaning materials without a word and not meeting his eye, as usual. He suddenly felt furious with her behavior; her disrespect was becoming a massive annoyance.

"Do not flee to your quarters so quickly anymore," he commanded.

She almost threw a petulant look, he knew it, but did not catch it fast enough to reprimand her. She nodded curtly and placed her cleaning supplies away, standing before him silently, her hands across her stomach as she stared at the floor. He walked around her stiffly as he had the first time he had laid eyes on her at the slave market; taking in her form, her demeanor, calculating.

"Meet my eyes," he barked, snapping his fingers in her face.

She looked up with a blank expression. For some reason this infuriated him further, and he began pacing in front of her.

"What do you want from me?" he suddenly shouted, whirling back around.

Hanni jumped back, startled, bringing her hands to her shoulders protectively. He leaped at her and held her in place by her wrists, his grip firm but not painful.

"What do you want from me?" he repeated, more quietly this time.

"Nothing, master," she blurted, afraid.

"I see the way you avoid me now," he said, his face barely an inch away. "You can hardly stand my presence."

_I thought you felt the same about me,_ she thought glumly, but said nothing.

He clenched his jaw angrily, annoyed by her silence, but merely released her and waved a dismissive hand in her direction.

"You may retreat to your quarters now," he said, turning away.

"I wish I could dismiss you as easily as you do me," she confessed sadly.

Tivan whirled around and grabbed her about the shoulders. She shrank from his grasp out of instinct and he clutched her a little harder. He breathed deeply for a moment before releasing her harshly and spinning on his heels, his fur cloak swaying behind him with his dramatic movements.

"What do you want?" he repeated again.

"I told you what I wanted," she said irately, once again not sure where her bravery was coming from. "I _thr__ew_ myself at you, and you shunned me. You treat me like... like..."

"Like a slave?" he finished quietly.

"Yes," she sighed.

"Because that is what you are."

"Then why make any pretense about being tender?" she challenged.

"Hanni," he said stoically, a hand to his temple, "This _cannot _be. You know as well as I."

"Then you intentionally led me on. Was this all part of your _plan?_ To tease me and string me along so that you'd get to play with me like a toy while I acted the part of a doting wife? Or slave?"

"I bought you," he snarled. "You are mine to do with as I please."

Hanni froze as if she had been slapped.

"That's true," she said. "But you don't have to treat me like it."

"Petulant brat," he shouted. "I've given you shelter, clothes, my food and wine – and yet you throw me a defiant eye and spit on my hospitality!"

"Hospitality?!" she snapped incredulously.

She was past caring about how he might punish her; at this point he knew for a fact she had become resentful, it was time for her to come clean.

"I was stolen from my home, trained as a slave for almost two years, and sold to YOU! You – you – you keep me penned up like an animal that fares little better than one of your other pets, you hurt me and then love me and then reject me and then you come to me and say I'm ungrateful! I clean up your messes and wait on your guests and try to fix your life and you just... just... you just _used_ me..."

She suddenly broke down in tears; they fell thick and hot down her cheeks and once they had begun she had no way of stopping. Hanni didn't even look at her master as she dropped to the ground and covered her face with her hands as she wept. She sobbed and sobbed for what seemed like an eternity, but she eventually ran dry of both energy and tears and just sat there hyperventilating. She expected Tivan to have left, but a handkerchief to her right told her otherwise. She looked up with surprise and he sat next to her on the floor with a slight groan, still holding the tissue. Hanni took it doubtfully, but used it to wipe her eyes and clutched it tightly against her lap. They sat in silence for unfathomable minutes before Tivan finally decided to speak in a tone so low she almost couldn't hear him.

"Do you really feel that way?"

"What way?" she whispered. He looked at her in earnest with his dark, tired eyes.

"That I used you."

Hanni tried desperately not to bite her lip in nervousness. They both seemed to have calmed down, however, so she spoke frankly.

"You knew exactly how I felt about you," she said. "And you rejected me when I tried to get close. But you still got precisely what you wanted – how could I not feel used?"

"I thought you were enjoying yourself, too," he said with a frown. Hanni could have socked him, but restrained herself.

"Of course I did. The nights we spent together were wonderful," she admitted with a small smile, "But suddenly about two weeks ago – that morning you woke up shouting – after that you were cold to me." She paused and looked him in the eye. "You treated me like a _slave_," she reiterated.

"How else am I supposed to treat you?" he asked, irritated.

"I guess you're right," she huffed, attempting to rise, but her master held her down fast.

"No," he said. "Explain it to me."

"I thought you cared about me," she said with sadness.

"Hanni," he said slowly, "What kind of life could you possibly imagine with me? It would seem like mere seconds."

"It's not such a short time for me."

"And that makes you selfish."

"Maybe," she said, sniffling. "But at least I know what I want."

With that, she handed back the handkerchief, but he refused it and clutched her hand with his own, running his fingers along her palm softly.

"Is that truly what you want?" he asked, looking back into her eyes. "To be mine?"

"I'd be your slave for eternity just to hear you say what I'm so desperate to hear."

"Your eternal servitude isn't required," he said with a flippant wave of his hand.

"What do you want from me, then?" she whispered, aching.

"The same thing," he said, leaning close.

"Please," she pleaded. "Don't tease me any more."

"What do you mean?" he whispered, his hands around her jaw and his lips mere centimeters from hers.

"Don't... touch me..." she sighed.

The last words slipped like a command and Tivan complied, running his fingers down her cheek as he kissed her. Hanni tried to pull away, conflicted, but failed miserably. As angry and confused as she was, Tivan's touch was addicting, and receiving it was irresistible. She still managed to break away, however, holding her hand against his chest.

"Ask me to stop," he said. "If you truly want me to."

He kissed her again and Hanni whimpered with longing, finding once more that she was powerless under his touch. She wrapped her arms about his neck and collapsed against him as he picked her up as if she was weightless and carried her to his room.


	21. The top of Knowhere

Tivan's headache was gone again, much to his relief, and he rolled over and curled around his slave, her back against his stomach as he tucked his knees behind hers and began kissing her ear. She let out a soft sigh and opened her eyes, wrapping her arms around her master's and leaning back into him. He kissed her neck and rose from the bed to bathe and dress, and Hanni started to leave to do the same, but he caught her attention and said, "Wear something nice today." She gave him a questioning glance, but said nothing and complied, the two meeting each other in the main hall within minutes. As Hanni walked down the stairs, Tivan watched her carefully. Her hair was unbound and lay against her shoulders and back and the tiny, multi-colored gems on the silky, dark blue gown she wore made it look like the night sky as it rippled about her elegantly. He took in the way her dress moved with her body, her demure smile, her black curls bouncing against her back and the way the blue lights of his collection looked in her eyes. He admitted to himself that he would miss it all terribly. He held out a hand for hers and she took it, giving him a cautious look and suspicious smile before doing so.

"Really," he said, pretending to be offended, "You act as though I've been cruel to you."

"Would it be out of line for me to point out..."

"Yes," he said, though kept his smile and raised her hand to his lips, kissing it softly as he looked in her eyes. "Let's not spoil it," he murmured.

"Spoil what?" she asked, tilting her head.

"You'll see," he said cryptically, and when she tried to insist, he held up a hand and offered only a small explanation. "We're going to play hooky today."

"You're shutting down the museum?" Hanni was genuinely surprised.

"No more questions," he said, leading her up a different, seldom-used flight of stairs and into an elevator to which only he had the key, some of his more aware exhibits watching them with interest.

"I haven't been up here," she said as the doors closed and the lift launched upwards.

"I know," was all he said.

She shrugged and waited until, after what seemed like a very long time, the elevator stopped and the doors opened to a large, round room with a glass domed ceiling. As Hanni stepped in and looked up, she noticed the heart-stopping view of the stars and outer space through which Knowhere floated. Even the green industrial haze that perpetually surrounded the city and celestial's head was oddly beautiful.

"Oh, master," she whispered.

"Taneleer," he corrected quietly. Hanni looked back doubtfully, but he kissed her hand tenderly and she beamed.

He led her over to a plush set of chairs beside a small table upon which two glasses and a dusty bottle sat, the only illumination in the room coming from the glow of the city reflecting off of the smoggy clouds outside. Hanni suddenly felt her master's – _Taneleer's_ – hands rubbing her shoulders softly, his kiss against the back of her head, his fingers rising to graze her throat gently before he broke away and poured two glasses of deep red wine. He sat down and rose his glass to her, she clicked hers against it shyly and took a sip. Immediately the taste of the cherry wine sent her into a heady spin, reminding her of the smell of Taneleer, the taste of his tongue against hers, the brush of his fingers... She blushed and looked down into her glass, curious as to what the special occasion was.

_Do I really need to rationalize this?_ she thought. _No,_ she decided with a smile. Taneleer must have had the same thought because he grinned widely and took a sip from his glass. They drank slowly and talked for hours, Hanni desperately interested in some of the quirkier collection pieces she had noticed while she was cleaning, Tivan curious about her former home.

"What is it like there?" he asked.

Hanni described her planet as a lush world made mostly of water and a few islands, some of them large enough to host tall cities, but most just rural and close-knit. It wasn't quite considered back-water, but the population was low enough that their home was largely ignored by traders, save for those in want of fish and hot-climate fruits.

"I thought I could smell the sea on you," he said.

"It's been almost two years," she replied. "I can hardly remember the scent, myself."

"Honestly, I'm surprised I remember it at all," he chuckled with a small sip of wine.

"How long has it been since you've been to one?" she asked.

Tivan paused for a moment, licking his lips in thought.

"It's hard to keep track of the days here sometimes," he admitted. "It must be a few years, at least."

"Maybe some day you can see my old home," she said.

"Would you escort me about like some trophy?" he laughed.

"It would only be fair," she giggled back, running her long fingers up the arm of his shirt and letting it rest on his shoulder. He glanced at her hand, considering, then took it in his own and stood, lifting her from her chair. She embraced him gently and he began to sway with her, one hand holding hers and the other placed upon her lower back. Hanni placed her head on his chest, listening for his heartbeat, sighing in delight and satisfaction. He traced a line from her forehead to her shoulders with his lips and kissed the small the dip where her neck met her collarbone. He straightened slowly and she laid against him again, breathing his cherry scent deeply and running her fingers across his rich velvet vest and fur cloak, wishing the day would never end.

"Hanni," he whispered in her ear as they swayed to non-existent music.

"Yes, Taneleer?" His name felt foreign and soothing on her tongue at the same time, and she savored the taste as she had the wine, velvety and comforting.

"Are you still afraid of me?" he asked.

"No," she laughed softly.

"Then I have a gift for you," he said, pulling away.

She watched him in confusion as he walked back to a desk hidden in the shadows and returned with a small white box. He handed it to her and gestured for her to open it. She complied, gasping when she saw what lay within. A thin, beautiful, and finely-wrought necklace of black gold was inside, tipped with a drooping black diamond that glittered and glistened. Tivan reached inside and brought it out carefully, stepping behind her and wrapping it about her neck gently and clasping it. Hanni placed a hand upon it as if in disbelief, turning back to her master and making a motion to remove it.

"Don't insult me," he said sternly, placing his hand over hers upon the jewel. He leaned forward and kissed her deeply and she felt as she had once when she went swimming as a girl, sinking like a stone in a warm, calm sea. Their kiss deepened and she wrapped her arms about him, her heart aching with the wonderful feeling. When they broke apart slightly he ran his fingers down her cheeks and body, resting them upon her hips as they began swaying in place again.

"I don't ever want to leave," she sighed.

"I love you too," he whispered.

She pulled back a little to look into his eyes. They were dark and grim as always, but Hanni saw no dishonesty there.

"I love you," she said, burrowing against him again.

Taneleer placed his face against the side of hers, breathing her scent in deeply, trying to brand the smell of her into his memory forever. _Someday you will not be here,_ he thought sadly. _But I'll enjoy this while I can._


	22. Don't make me

Hanni looked at the small calendar on the wall in Tivan's bedroom, realizing with surprise she had been his property for nearly five months. She touched the necklace he had given her about a month ago gingerly; she never wanted to take it off, though her master had warned her not to wear it outside his building. Since she never really left it wasn't a problem. She left to collect a clean outfit for the day, having already bathed that morning with Tivan, but when she entered her nearly-abandoned room, she found to her confusion that all of her clothes were gone, save one somewhat plain white dress. She put it on without complaint, singing happily to herself.

* * *

><p>Taneleer dressed himself especially well today, making sure his snowy hair was combed carefully and that his makeup was perfect. Hanni always said she loved how the black eyeliner accentuated his dark eyes, then she would kiss him along the strip that ran from his lip to his chin, finally landing on his mouth and... He shook his head with a smile, attaching a pure white fur cloak about his shoulders and clasping it with onyx. He examined himself in the mirror, posing with a flourish and grinning. He brushed a stray hair from his black vest and suddenly tears welled in his eyes.<p>

_I'm not sure I can do this._

* * *

><p>The dress may have been plain, but Hanni felt beautiful in it. It hung to the middle of her calves, while the sleeves hovered at the length of her elbows and the neckline was just low enough not to obscure the black necklace from her master. She ran her fingers over it with a soft breath, closing her eyes and sifting through the past few months of bliss she had had with Taneleer. Smiling, Hanni left her room to find him, waiting in the main hall. After a few minutes, she started to get bored and reached for a brush to start polishing one of the glass cages.<p>

"That won't be necessary," her master said.

Hanni looked at him with a smile, running over and leaping into his arms. He held her against him, breathing deeply into her hair with a scowl. He didn't want to release her, but knew that he had to eventually. She kissed him and he nearly cried out.

"What's wrong?" she asked, running her fingers through his hair. He looked especially nice today, but his depressed expression made her worry.

"Nothing," he said, putting on a smile and kissing her again, his lips lingering on hers for longer than usual before they broke apart. She returned the smile with concern.

"Walk with me," he commanded, and he led her from his collection with a hand.

They walked through a few less-populated alleys and byways before finally arriving at his private hangar, the same one at which she had arrived when he had first brought her here. She glanced up curiously at the small ship and noticed a couple small pieces of luggage being loaded into the back of it by some workers.

"Master?" she asked, not wanting to be too familiar with him in public.

"You cannot call me that," he said glumly.

Hanni scowled and turned to him in confusion, but suddenly felt a sharp, hot sensation at the base of her neck as Tivan pulled something back from her with a forked metal instrument. She howled in pain, but he placed a wet, numbing cloth on the wound and tossed something on the ground, crushing it beneath his highly polished boot. He concentrated on her neck, pursing his lips, but pulled away after a moment and set the cloth and tool aside with a frown. Hanni ran her fingers up to graze the wound, which had stopped bleeding immediately after Tivan had tended to it. She looked up to her master in alarm, but before she could say anything, he grabbed her and held her against him, then pulled her back and kissed her deeply, but tenderly.

"What's going on?" she asked, suddenly frightened.

"I cannot keep you here," he said, tears suddenly springing into his eyes and his voice cracking slightly.

"No," she said, the situation finally dawning on her as she glanced at her shattered tracker on the ground. She shook her head and clutched him tightly. "Please don't!"

"If I do not do this now, I'll end up keeping you here forever," he nearly whispered.

"That's fine!" she shouted, noticing with alarm the hangar workers were approaching them quickly. "I don't want to leave!"

Tivan held her close, letting out a soft moan and sighing. Hanni could feel the wetness of his tears against her cheek and she began to cry in slight panic.

"I don't want to leave, Taneleer!" she cried again, clutching his clothing and giving him a deep kiss that he returned with equal fervor. She heard the footsteps of his workers stop about 20 feet behind them and began to cry in earnest.

"Please," she wept, "Don't make me..."

"Hanni," he said softly, placing his hands upon her cheeks and looking her in the eyes, "You need to live for yourself. You can't throw your life away just to be the possession of a crazy old man. I cannot keep you here as my slave anymore." He smirked and gave a small, harsh laugh. "There are only so many beautiful birds I can keep caged."

"I don't care if you lock me up and keep me here forever," she sobbed, her shoulders shaking.

"I know," he whispered into her ear, wrapping his arms about her once more.

Hanni realized with desperation and horror that it was likely she wouldn't have a choice about whether or not she would be leaving him. She reached up and unclasped the priceless necklace he had given her, pulling back and holding it out to him.

"It seems wrong to keep this," she said quietly.

He retrieved a small, satin bag from his vest, placing the jewelry within and cinching it, handing it back to Hanni. She tried to refuse, but he insisted and forced it back into her hands, compressing her against his body again and burrowing his face into her neck and thick black hair.

"Please keep it," he begged. "As a reminder. And should you ever need money."

"I'd never...!" she gasped, but he straightened and placed a finger to her lips.

"Keep it hidden. I've made sure you dressed plainly, too, to avoid unwanted attention."

"Please," she whispered.

"This is for the best," he said.

"I won't go," she wept, but he snapped his fingers at his guards and they began advancing. She panicked and tried to squirm around him.

"Hanni," he said, catching her firmly. "Hanni."

She looked him in the eyes. He embraced her one last time and kissed her passionately before she was yanked back by his guards. She began kicking and screaming, but Taneleer shouted something after her and she stopped, staring at him as they began loading her in the ship.

"I love you," he called.

"I love you too," she cried back.

Then the door to the ship shut and sealed, the engine started, drowning out the sound of the Hanni's fists pounding on the door, and within moments it had risen and left Tivan to stand alone in his hangar. He watched as the ship grew smaller and smaller in the sky and eventually disappeared between the stars. Taneleer walked slowly back to his collection, staring at it with satisfaction as he smoked a cherry cigarette and began remembering his and Hanni's time together fondly.

_I'll collect memories as I do things,_ he thought with a sad smirk. _My curse is to be a living graveyard of perished memories and people. Still, _he chuckled, _at least this time I got to live it._


	23. Someday

Hanni breathed in the deep salt air, shielding her eyes from the bright sun. It had been a long time since she had seen true sunlight, or the glittering of it on the vast, endless ocean of her homeworld, the deep blue and green like a blanket that covered the planet.

_I thought I had forgotten it,_ she thought. _It had only faded._

She licked her lips and tasted the salt there.

_Not as sweet as cherries,_ she sighed softly.

Although it was wonderful to be home again, things were not the same. Her reunion with her family was emotional but welcome and they expressed genuine surprise that she had been released from slavery. Hanni had left out most of the details about Taneleer, keeping them to herself greedily, as if sharing what had happened between them would lessen it somehow. She thought about him with a smile, walking along the hot sand, her shoes in one hand and the satchel he had given her in the other. She rested beneath a shady palm next to a rock in a quiet area, looking about her before she opened the little satin bag and went over the contents yet again. Hanni put the necklace on, running her fingers along it delicately as she remembered Tivan's face. Reaching back into the bag, she felt for the other surprises he had left for her there – a thick bundle of units lay within, but that's not what she was searching for. Her fingertips grazed another piece of paper and she retrieved it with a fond smile, unfolding it and reading it for the hundredth time, Tivan's delicate, loopy writing scrawled elegantly across the page.

_Hanni,_

_As I write this, you are laying across my bed, asleep. I find if I stare at you too long, my hand ceases to write and my conviction wavers. No doubt you will be angry – that is alright. But this is truly the best course. I cannot, in good conscience, keep you here as a slave. Even were I to free you, I would not trust either of us to have clear heads. Were you to want to leave I'm not sure I would allow you to; we must part before my heart overcomes my head. Know always that you are loved, and should our paths cross again it would be more than I could ever hope for. But live your life for yourself, and know that I think of you always._

_Love,  
>Taneleer <em>

Hanni sighed and clutched the letter to her chest, deciding to fold it up and put it away again once her tears started to fall. She did not want to ruin her most treasured possession. She placed the necklace within, too, carefully closing the bag again and laying back as she watched the sun set over the ocean.

* * *

><p>Taneleer Tivan walked through his collection quietly, a cigarette in one hand, his other palm drifting lazily over the glass of his exhibits and items. He took another puff of the cherry leaves and paused in front of the photo of his family, a sad grin playing on his face as he reached into his vest and pulled out another frame, placing it beside the old one with care. The new one was smaller, but nearly identical, save for the photo within. Hanni smiled at him softly from the picture, dressed in the elegant red gown that was her favorite, the necklace he had once loaned to her draped about her neck. Once Tivan had found out there had been a photographer that night he had brought her to meet his associates, he had tracked him down and paid handsomely, for both the photo and his silence. He straightened it casually on the old, beaten desk with a smirk, taking one more puff of his cigarette before grinding it into a refuse dish. He sighed and turned around to examine the rest of his collection.<p>

_Just another day of eternity,_ he pouted gloomily, but consoled himself with the thought of Hanni enjoying her new freedom. He pictured her walking on a sunny beach, the wind in her hair, maybe eating a piece of tropical fruit or going for a swim in the ocean... and for the first time since she had left over a week ago, he felt a little happiness. _Someday,_ he promised himself, _Someday, if she wishes to return, she will._ He held onto the hope thinly, but felt somehow, deep down, he had not seen the last of his former slave. He wondered what she was doing, and once again smiled as he imagined her basking in the sun and breathing fresh air, dancing on the beach and dipping her feet in the ocean. _Someday._


	24. One year later

_**One year later**_

Hanni drummed her fingers anxiously on her knees, which were shaking as she jittered in her seat.

"Almost there, ma'am," the pilot said, guiding his fingers across the console and tapping security codes into a screen she could not see. This area was heavily guarded, and with good reason.

"You can take a look, if you want," the man said kindly as he turned in his seat to face her with a smile.

Hanni unlatched her restraint and approached the window, looking out at the familiar green haze surrounding Knowhere with an irrepressible grin.

"What are you gonna do there?" the man asked.

"I have something for the Collector," she said with a smirk.

"Yeah? Heard he's a real character, that guy."

"You have no idea," she laughed, returning to her seat for the final descent.

She laid her fingers on the highly secured gift next to her, her other hand finding its way to the necklace hidden beneath her shirt. It had taken some time of trading, hard work and business to finally get enough money for a return trip to the edge of the universe, but it was worth it. She laid back and sighed, picturing Taneleer's face, the fur cloaks he was so fond of, the way his body felt against hers, his flamboyant walk and strange demeanor... Hanni swore she could already smell cherries.

When they had landed and docked, she paid for an armed escort to Tivan's collection, entering the shining building by herself when the guards recognized her. When she entered, she realized it was nearly identical to the way it had always been, save for several new exhibits and, she noticed with surprise, the lack of a slave. She looked up to the small, brightly lit area at the head of a short set of stairs and her heart nearly froze. His back was to her and she could see his soft, flowing white cloak swaying with his movements as he fidgeted with something on his desk, concentrating on a new acquisition and mumbling to himself. Hanni walked forward and he raised his head at the sound of her footsteps, but did not turn around.

"Have you an appointment?" he asked in a bored voice. "I generally don't accept unsolicited visitors."

"This one's long overdue," she said.

Taneleer immediately turned around, his thick white eyebrows raised above his bizarre, telescopic glasses. He pulled them off his face and tossed them onto the desk, taking disbelieving steps down the staircase towards Hanni.

"Either I am dreaming or hallucinating," he said silkily, reaching his former slave and raising one of her hands to his lips and kissing it. He felt unsure and his eyes flicked over the bundle she held. He wanted desperately to grab her, but wasn't sure if his advances would be welcome.

"I have a gift," she whispered, stepping closer.

"For my collection?"

"You might not want to put this one in a cage," she said with a smirk, unwrapping the bundle delicately and handing it to Taneleer, who stared down in disbelief. He looked back up quickly and she grinned. Tivan leaped forward and embraced her, kissing her furiously, all the frustrations and unrequited desires of the past year finally being released as they laughed and touched and pressed their lips against each others' skin. Finally they pulled away, and Tivan admired the gift she had brought with tears in his eyes. The baby had hair as dark as his mother's, but it swept up at his widow's peak in a fashion undeniably identical to his father's.

"His name is Tanevere," she whispered.

Taneleer grinned and leaned over to his former slave, kissing her deeply again and holding her against him.

"I love you," she whispered.

"I love you too," he said softly. He paused for a moment to kiss her yet again, as though trying to prove to himself she were real. "How can I convince you to stay?"

"Just promise you won't make me leave," she responded.

He laughed and clutched her tightly and she ran her fingers through his hair, kissing him again.

_Finally,_ he thought, _I've rebuilt._


	25. Author's Thanks

Hooray! It's done! I desperately hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it! This story went a little differently than I had planned, but the ending stayed _almost_ exactly the same. Originally I was just going to end it with Hanni returning to Knowhere with their baby, and not include their reunion, but I figured that wouldn't be fair – I wanted to read about them seeing each other again, too! – too selfish?

I am NOT planning a sequel at this time, and it's very likely there will never be one. Sorry! But I feel like I left them at a good place. I don't think Tivan would ever forget his first family, at all, but now he's got the chance to never be lonely again, and that's where I wanted to end it. A little bit of hope and a happy ending for everyone's favorite eccentric, hoarding Space Liberace.

Someone wrote me a very kind PM about the drawing I did for this story – I deleted the message like a dipstick and now can't remember who it was, but if you are reading this, you have my deepest gratitude for your sweet words!

I want to take the time to let you all know that this was the quickest I ever cracked out a whole story, and a lot of it has to do with the motivation I received from all the incredibly generous, kind, and thoughtful reviews. The fact so many of you took the time to let me know you were enjoying this means so much to me, it truly does. I can't even express how much joy it gave me to find messages in my inbox with someone telling me how much they loved everything. Thank you again, endlessly, for the favorites, follows, and reviews, and even to those of you who read it but didn't follow or give feedback – even just knowing someone took the time to read it is an incredible honor, and from the bottom of my heart, I thank you!

Happy reading and thanks again!


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